


together we map the world

by newtsgeiszler



Category: Inception
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Complete, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Slow Build, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2374151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtsgeiszler/pseuds/newtsgeiszler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a person turns eighteen, the words that their soulmate will first say to them appear on their skin, the handwriting of the latter in permanent ink.  Arthur doesn't exactly ignore the sentence etched on him once he reaches the age, going through life with a slight wonder if it'll happen to him appearing every now and then as time passes.  Then he and Dom fall into extraction, a plan they never meant to be involved in, and meet those around the world who would change the course of everyone's life.  Including someone Arthur never thought he'd want to do anything with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. he doesn't know why

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt that my very lovely friend Maddie and I once discussed then decided I should write about because I still adore Inception even though it's been 82 years since it came out, and tbh I just wanted an excuse for Arthur and Eames to banter back and forth at each other. I shall update as much as I can, and I hope you all enjoy it  
> p.s. here's the link to my own arthur/eames mix i made if you would like to listen to it: http://8tracks.com/newtsgeiszler/this-is-a-kick-an-arthur-eames-mix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from the song by fleet foxes

Back when he was younger, Arthur would often trace the letterings of the singular tattoo his mother possessed on her right arm, the words _what a day to rain_ in swooping and elongated lines. His father, of the few memories that he had of him, had small, almost vertical words on his side that responded to his mother’s: _but still a beautiful day._

It was something no one ever figured out. There had been tests and experiments done, but no conclusion was ever reached about how a person’s soul mate’s first words to them would appear on their skin. Some would appear on arms, on their leg, side, back; anywhere skin was smooth and ready for the letters. You weren’t born with the words on you, but they would appear on the day you turned eighteen, and it had become a tradition among many to tattoo their partner’s words just below or above their own, as if to commemorate the strange ink in their own way.

Not all soul mates found were of romantic inclination, Arthur had figured out. A few people in his college were the absolute best of friends regardless of identity or sex, but were never romantically involved even though their first words to each other were etched onto their other. Some people never received the tattoo, and they joked about how they never had to worry about the day they would meet their partner for life, that they were free to love anyone who was the same as them. Most looked to be at peace with the fact, though a few sometimes had a look of sadness, one no one could really describe as anything but “lost”.  


So on the day Arthur turned eighteen, he moved to the mirror from his bed, and immediately spotted the words that were on his inner left forearm. They were in quick but delicate penmanship, and stretched from his elbow to his wrist.  


_a pleasure to meet you, darling_

Arthur stared at the words for what felt like hours, a finger tracing the flow of the letters from elbow to wrist and back again. He’d never met anyone who called him darling; not even his mother, rest her soul, had given him such an endearing pet name. He frowned slightly, wondering how in the hell someone in this day and age who still called someone that could exist. Ignoring the slight twinge of nervousness that spread through him, he dressed quickly, making sure the six words were covered by the long sleeve shirt he wore.  


One of his few and only friends at college, Dom Cobb, of course, immediately wanted to know the inscription when Arthur sat next to him in class. Dom Cobb was a good guy, Arthur had decided upon meeting him. He had a level of attractiveness that was noticeable to anyone with eyes, including Arthur, though he didn’t consider the man his type. But Dom only had eyes for a girl Arthur had seen walking around campus, always on the other side of the road or class. It was amusing and slightly annoying whenever Dom would talk about the girl, Mal, Arthur learned one early morning during lecture hall, because Dom was convinced that something about her was significant enough to keep his gaze to her.  


“Never spoken a word to her and yet entirely sure she’s the one huh?” Arthur inquired once, and Dom nodded a little, looking slightly scared when Arthur then said, “What if she isn’t?”  


“She is. I know she is.” His voice was full of conviction, though for Arthur or himself the former never asked.  


“You know the words on your shoulder by heart now Dom; take the next step, if only so you can finally talk to her about everything you are telling me instead,” Arthur said, rubbing his temples at the small headache that had descended on him from last class. Mal was a few feet in front of them, and before Dom could protest, Arthur gave him a slight shove forward towards her.  


He was close enough that he could hear Dom finally, thank you god, speak to her. Arthur knew the words Dom had inked on his shoulder as well, and to hear Mal say them to him was a mixture of “holy shit Dom was right” and “thank god Dom was right”. Dom seemed to feel the same when he looked back at Arthur, who mouthed “have fun” before heading into the building to his left for the last class of the day.  


After that sunny afternoon Mal and Dom were inseparable. Arthur would come to regard her as a beautiful and wonderful friend from it, and she would say the same to him. She occasionally asked him what he thought about the words he possessed on his arm, and he could only reply with a shrug or “I don’t know yet”, avoiding her eyes when she looked at him a moment longer. She never pushed him though, and to that he was grateful. The three would go through the next years of college in close classes, always available to help lend a helping hand with rough projects that would include at most thirty minutes of sleep or splashing their faces with cold water just to get through the day. Before Arthur knew it, he was out of the life as a student, Mal and Dom hand in hand next to him as they celebrated their success of graduation and to going into adult life more prepared than they had felt before. Arthur smiled when Mal told him over and over how good of a researcher how would be once employers would stop being dumbasses and see how brilliant he was. It was a satisfying end to years of testing and sleeplessness and terror of what was to come, but it was worth it. 

Then, everything went upside and fell through the roof.  


Dom had managed to get Arthur and himself a job at a company known as Synoco, an industry full of various jobs that were said to fetch at a high price, and would only take those they considered to be the best of those they saw. Arthur thanked him for it, his friend waving away the words a little, saying, “You deserve this more than anyone.”  


At first Arthur was a researcher for various clients who wished to know exact locations and properties that were either going under or about to become bankrupt. He didn’t think much of it, not until he saw that the companies would then be converted by said clients, and then every city or country that held one would fall like dominoes willingly to the other, no fighting, no trials, no problems. He began doing his own research, trying to figure out what it was that was behind such events, but he didn’t get far before he was suddenly taken from his office to the basement at concealed gunpoint. That’s when he knew he was definitely fucked.  


Dom was down there as well, a worry line creased between his brows. A man in a military uniform greeted them, instructing the men to holster their weapons, and began to talk to Dom and Arthur about dreams.  


Of course they didn’t believe him. Changing dreams to suit a client’s needs to extract secrets they would otherwise never tell? Who could blame them though; it was a concept that was past its beginnings but still far from being even close to finished.  


Until a machine called a PASIV was brought out in a case in front of them, opening to reveal tubes and wires and a small round clock-like object nestled neatly in the middle. The two men who had brought them down took two of the tubes and made them pull a sleeve before inserting the needle end of it into an elbow. Arthur grimaced slightly at it; he had never really liked them, even if the pain was only for a second. Then, he began feeling tired, his eyelids starting to close by the heavy weight they felt, and soon, the two fell into sleep.  


When they were in the dream world, they looked at one another for a moment, confusion on each other’s face.  


“It’s a sedative,” the military man said as he joined them, forcing Arthur to turn around to face him, Dom next to Arthur, a hand pulled into a loose fist. “This is my dream, and I brought you both into it, which means everything you see around you is from my own thoughts, my own dreams. If I wished I could make every building here a skyscraper, make the city empty or a chaos of people, anything I wished to do while I got to my objective located inside the target’s mind. But never are you alone in this. You have others, like an architect to make unique cities so the subconscious that forms into the people around you can’t attack you as easily once they know you’re here. A point man—” he looked over at Arthur as he said the words “—a researcher who knows everything they can about the target to anticipate anything and everything they might come in counter with while in the dream world of the target. The leader to meet the objective and reach it before they’re woken from the dream, which is either by running out of a sedative or being killed in the dream. And these are just a few of the positions that can make a team of individuals like you into a force that would make anyone afraid to sleep.”  


The man seemed to stand up straighter as he looked at the two, and a glint appeared in his eyes that made them seem more alive and focused than before. “I am MacKaye, the head of Synoco, the company behind such ideas, the inventers of the PASIV, and the beginning of a new chapter in espionage.” He grinned, and Arthur felt his stomach drop from it. “Welcome to the extraction business, men. You’re in for one hell of an experience.”


	2. between two points

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was honestly not expecting such a response to my first chapter, but thank you to all those who left kudos/comments!! I'm happy to say that I am finally done editing another one for you, & I hope you guys like it :)  
> title from the song by the glitch mob

Arthur and Dom didn’t really have a choice at this point. Well, Arthur did, he could leave since they had no one to threaten him within his life, but upon hearing that they would visit Mal if Dom didn’t cooperate he decided to stay. It would be worse than letting the alternative come true.

Their work began, training with the military in different situations in dreams, from subconscious forms attacking them to complicated secrets to extract to dying. They died so many times in dreams Arthur thought about keeping a chart to see just exactly how many times they woke back into reality, the phantom of a gunshot or knife wound or poison still hanging onto them, fading after a few days of real world interaction. Arthur was assigned to stay with Dom, and they rotated with different teams, seeing who they could work with best. That was when the two met Ariadne.

A bright student studying in France, she had managed to get sucked into Synoco by complete accident. A simple mistake made by the post, mixing up two numbers and delivering her major in architecture studies to the company instead of the internship she had meant to go to. She had been fascinated at first by the whole concept, but, after her first time dying in a dream and waking up, she told them the fascination had never been worth it.

“I hear they’re looking for a chemist next,” she said to them, moving the straw in her drink around a little. They were sitting in a restaurant a couple blocks from the headquarters, though none of them felt like eating; all of them had died from extreme poisoning just hours before.

“I thought they already had enough sedatives to put the whole world to sleep for the next century,” Dom responded, leaning his arms against the table, one hand resting against his forehead.

“They’re looking for something,” Arthur said, remembering when he saw a file someone had misplaced with a target’s own that described “going deeper into the dreams than just level one”. His eyes had narrowed at the information, but he placed it back into the folder quickly, acting as if nothing had been wrong. “They want to travel deeper into the mind, that there’s more than just the dream level we’ve been going to this whole time.”

“Deeper the mind you go the darker and bigger the secrets?” Ariadne ventured, taking a small sip of water.

“It’s possible, but it seems like more than that. Like there’s something else they want to do instead of just extract information from targets.” Arthur straightened up when he saw MacKaye walk into the doors, which was a feat considering how perfectly postured Arthur already sat. Ariadne turned her head, and felt her face flush. She never liked MacKaye, no one did, but he was the one who shot her in her first dream to wake her up; Arthur and Dom had been attacked by subconscious forms, but they could understand her hesitance with the man.

“He’s not here for us,” Dom said, leaning back in his chair. His eyes had dark circles under them, and he looked more tired than usual. “Heard he was here for another reference or possible employee.”

Ariadne snapped her head back around, wrapping her hands around the cold glass. “As long as he stays away I don’t care what he does.” She hadn’t eaten all day, and was shaking slightly. Arthur placed a hand on her arm slightly, and she relaxed some. The two liked Ariadne more than any other architect that they’d worked with, and she seemed to feel the same. It was nice to have another person on the team who was not only extremely talented at her skill but was also someone who tried to stay as optimistic about the outcome of working with Synoco as possible. She knew that she was going to probably be in their hands until she was no longer useful, but she tried to avoid the thought as much as possible. Tightening her scarf, she slid up her sleeves, the red bright against her pale skin. That’s when Dom saw the letters.

“Ariadne? What do your words say?” he asked politely, knowing that for some the subject could be a sensitive issue that they thought should stay only with them.

Ariadne glanced down at her right wrist for a moment before realizing she had never shown them her soul mate’s words. Going red slightly, she said in a small voice, “‘it is a wonderful day to meet you’”. The words disappeared under her fingers, and she turned away for a moment, collecting her thoughts before facing them. “Always thought they’d be on my side like my mom and my grandma’s had been…imagine my surprise huh?”

Dom gave her a warm smile before saying, “‘i know you but i don’t know you’ was what Mal said to me. Word for word.”

Ariadne looked pleased that they didn’t ask her what she thought the words meant, who they belonged to; it was maddening enough doing it on her own without her friends’ help. Looking over at the point man, she raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Arthur sighed slightly but said, “‘a pleasure to meet you, darling’”, feeling his face heat up. Thankfully, he wasn’t much of a blusher. Ariadne’s mouth flew into a grin, but she didn’t press him, just saying, “Looks like we get unknown ones huh?” before returning her hands to the glass, tapping it with a fingernail. Arthur agreed, the feeling of nervousness passing through him for a moment. He was already cautious enough about any person he worked with, save for their now permanent architect. An unknown person saying the words that would confirm them to be the person Arthur would spend his life with? Just the thought made Arthur’s skin break out in goosebumps. He turned his focus back to the table as Ariadne asked Dom about Mal, since they had rarely been able to spend any time together that wasn’t planning or extracting or dreaming. Normal topics were a rare treat, and learning about each other was refreshing from learning about the past of a target that they’d never see again.

A few weeks after exchanging their tattoos, MacKaye walked in with a dark haired man, his clothes reminding Arthur of Ariadne’s own style; bright and contrasting against the darkness of the rooms in the buildings.

“This is Yusuf, your new chemist,” MacKaye told them. Arthur looked at the man, keeping his face in a neutral expression. “One of the best we’ve found at making new sedatives that not only prolong dreams, but can also aid in preventing subconscious forms to start noticing or attacking you. I’m sure he’ll be of great help to you all.” MacKaye gave them a nod before leaving, the door clicking shut behind him. Yusuf cleared his throat, saying, “I wouldn’t be wrong in assuming you all were discovered on accident too would I?” When they all shook their heads, the man sighed like he’d been expecting such an answer. “So did everyone else I talked to. What a strange way to recruit people into illegal activities.”

He looked around, and seemed to notice Ariadne for the first time. She gave him a small smile and walked up to him, saying, “It’s nice to have you with us.” Arthur saw Yusuf’s eyes widen slightly before taking Ariadne’s offered hand, telling her, “It is a wonderful day to meet you.”

Arthur felt his eyebrows rise before glancing sideways at Dom, who was doing the same. Well at least Ariadne had her answer now Arthur decided, looking back at the girl. She seemed to realize it a few moments after Yusuf let go of her hand, turning bright red before excusing herself for a moment, walking out the same door MacKaye had left only moments earlier. Yusuf turned to the two men once the door closed, his face a mixture of emotions Arthur couldn’t decipher.

“She said the words…” he whispered, just loud enough for them to hear. They said nothing for a while; they were content in letting Yusuf sit down in the chair next to the one Ariadne had been occupying before and collect his thoughts from the realization he had just met his soul mate. Dom turned his head towards Arthur, saying, “At this rate we’re going to meet yours next Arthur.” The latter snorted slightly, hand unconsciously drifting to rest over the words that sat under the sleeves of his suit. But he was happy for Ariadne. She already had seemed to be in likeness with Yusuf from the moment he stepped into the room, but now…well, he knew she’d be okay.

“She seems like a wonderful lady,” Yusuf said, looking up at Arthur and Dom for confirmation, his eyes flicking back and forth between them. Dom crossed his arms, saying, “She’s one of the best we known.” Arthur replied in similar words, and Yusuf gave himself a small smile before they heard the door opening again. Ariadne walked back in, and sat down next to Yusuf turning her chair towards him. She was smiling slightly, and said, “You seem like a good guy too.”


	3. we dreamt in heist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahh I'm so sorry it's been a while since I updated, with life being crazy and all, but I finally managed to complete another chapter! thank you to all the lovely comments/kudos, they really make me smile and encourage to keep writing. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> title from the song by anberlin

Weeks passed. Dreaming then reality then dreaming then reality again. Yusuf working with the delicate chemicals that would send them down further than before a ways away from where the three lay in the chairs, needles hooked in under sleeves. He kept a careful eye on Ariadne every time. 

They had started out awkward and nervous, not quite sure what to say to the other. What do you say to your soul mate anyways? No one had made an instruction book for times like this, and both wished they had paid more attention to their friends whenever they had been giving out “how to talk to another person and quite possibly your soul mate” advice. Over the next couple weeks they did find a balance, giving the other small smiles when the latter’s attention was diverted, or just looking at them, as if they could learn everything about the other by gaze alone. They talked about the combination of the effects of building the dream with the different sedatives greatly, wondering how to balance a dream world while two levels under. Of course they also snapped at the other on particular bad days, such as when Ariadne was stressed from school and dealing with Synoco at the same time, or Yusuf becoming frustrated from failing to make a certain sedative work after hours and hours of work and planning. But the fights didn’t last long, mostly because the other would storm off to calm down, leaving the other to feel guilt rest on their shoulders. Apologies would be made, both of them talking about their feelings and how they were scared, and nowadays usually ended with the two of them sitting against each other, taking comfort in the other’s company. 

Of course, Arthur and Dom never let MacKaye know about Ariadne and Yusuf’s relationship; Synoco was notorious for using people against others a great deal, and the two had no doubt that should the secret be revealed that the same would happen to the architect and the chemist. They reported their findings but kept conversations to the man short, their want for privacy heavy on their minds. MacKaye never seemed to mind, but they knew they couldn’t go much longer with the tactic lest he become suspicious of why one of the best teams in the company was so secretive.

They had been two months in when Yusuf told them that one of his compounds had worked, finally, and that they were to report for further training. Arthur felt a small bout of anxiety spike through his heart at the words.

They came in, the chemist looking nervous as he prepared the sedative in doses that would ensure the team’s safety. Ariadne gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as she passed by him, the contact brief but enough to let Yusuf relax slightly. They could see MacKaye and a team behind the glass in the room, and took to their respective chairs, hooking up to the PASIV when Yusuf said, “It’s ready.”

MacKaye’s voice crackled over the intercom system. “When you reach the dream level, find the women in the red dress. You’ll have a PASIV on you Cobb, so make sure you use it. Find her secret. Then, you’ll wake up.

“Good luck.” The voice died away as the drug took effect, and soon the trio fell down into the dream world once again.

*********

Arthur met Dom near the steps of a large hotel, gun holstered against the small of his back. Ariadne was walking out of the doors, double checking that her architecture was just enough, that the details were not too specific and just a blur as her eyes passed over them; she had tried to make them that way during one of her first times in the world, and it had collapsed around them suddenly and quickly. The next couple of days afterwards were full of anxiety whenever the ground shifted slightly or a building shook wherever they went in the real world.

“A woman in red. Very specific MacKaye,” Ariadne spat as she approached the men. Dom was clutching a silver briefcase, his eyes looking around as she sat down on the concrete. 

“Something tells me we’ll know who it is when we see her, regardless of being nameless,” Dom replied. 

“So what, we convince her we’re in a dream world, that she was put under by bad guys and we need to protect her and that the only way to do so is to go another level down?”

“More or less.”

Ariadne sighed, saying, “I hope I don’t get stabbed this time when everything goes to shit; I much prefer being shot.” Arthur huffed a laugh, and she snapped her eyes over to him, glaring, before giving a small laugh herself. “Never thought I’d ever say such a sentence in my life.”

The three made their way down the expansive sidewalk, people separating around them before gathering back together once passed, as if already sensing that they were not the same as them. Arthur’s hand twitched when he saw one of the subconscious forms look at them a second too long, but forced it to relax. The form then looked away, as if the three weren’t worth its time. 

Arthur was looking to his right when he froze, grabbing Ariadne and Dom’s elbows. A woman sat at a table in front of a small café, her red dress bright against the rest of the crowd. She sipped at a drink while regarding a book in front of her, but Arthur knew this was the woman they were looking for.

“Can’t be that easy,” Dom muttered.

“Maybe it can be,” Arthur said, making his way over to the lady. He heard Ariadne and Dom split up behind him, ready to help convince the women of the ‘danger’ she was in once Arthur had made contact.

“Mind if I sit here?” The woman looked up, her blue-green eyes regarding him. She let a smile spread across her face, saying, “You may.”

Arthur adjusted his jacket as he did, making sure the jacket was loose so the outline of the gun couldn’t be seen to the forms around him. “Too nice of a day to spend indoors, wouldn’t you say?” he asked her, the mask of polite and at ease slipping over his face with no difficulty. She smiled again, replying, “Every day here should be spent outside, though lately I’ve been inclined to make such ventures.”

“Why?”

“People, certain people, have been watching me. At least that what someone I know told me. They’re someone I can trust, so I’m trying to be careful.”

“They’re not wrong. Ma’am I’m Mr. Anderson, and I’m here to help keep you safe,” he said quietly, and her eyes widened slightly, but Arthur continued on before she could speak. “They told you someone was coming here to help you from getting hurt against those people didn’t they? I’m the man they were speaking of.” Arthur could feel a few forms staring at him, their eyes burrowing into the back of his head. He made his voice as convincing and sure sounding as possible, needing the woman to agree and believe him.

She looked over one shoulder before saying, “Thank god, I thought they were lying.”

“Now ma’am we need to leave here, get to a safe place. Only then will we be able to help you.”

“We?”

“My partners are here too, they’ll help in case any trouble starts, but our main priority right now is making sure you stay alive.”

“Let’s go then.”

Arthur signaled for Dom and Ariadne to rejoin, and they led the woman to the hotel, climbing up the steps. She looked nervous, and Ariadne said, “Everything will be okay, we’re right here for you.” The woman gave a small smile to her, seeming to relax after that. They managed to slip by the front desk and into the elevator, pushing out of it at the seventh floor. It had been impulse decision making so that way the forms would have a harder time following them on Ariadne’s part. 

They spoke to her quietly as they randomly selected a room, explaining what was happening. She grew more and more pale as the conversation continued, being silent for a moment before nodding; she understood. Arthur nearly sighed in relief before remembering to hold it back. He was Mr. Anderson; he was sure, never without doubt. No need to make her begin to think so just when they were so close to the second half of their mission.

Dom helped hook the woman up to the PASIV as Ariadne and Arthur did the same, ready to slip even farther from reality. As the darkness descended, Arthur thought he saw a gleam in the woman’s eyes, and it made his heart skip slightly. There was something about her…

But he had no time to finish the thought before the drug took him under.

*********

This time Ariadne had built a city filled with skyscrapers, the sun hidden behind the glass as they met up by a river that flowed under a bridge nearby. The woman was looking around, her eyes full of surprise and pride, but for why Arthur couldn’t guess. 

“Now ma’am, we need to go somewhere where you feel the safest. But you need to lead us; we don’t want anyone in our heads finding us faster than necessary,” Dom told her. She nodded, and began walking toward a tall office building, the three on her heels.

They climbed up the levels until they reached the top, the woman looking around before unlocking a giant office, closing and locking it once they were all inside. 

“We need to destroy anything in here that these men could want, but we’ll let you get it. Remember we need everything, so leave nothing that could trace to you left.” Arthur watched as the woman hesitated, but then nodded, walking over to her desk. She slipped behind it before disappearing, the sounds of a lock turning before clicking open. She gathered the papers, standing up to face them. Suddenly, she clutched the documents closer, her eyes suspicious.

“How do I know you won’t read them?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

_Shit._

“We’ll enclose them then burn them, or you can do it with us in the room. We don’t want to invade your life ma’am, but we need to make sure that these documents don’t fall into the wrong hands,” Arthur said, slowly approaching her, his eyes never leaving her own. He held out a hand once he stood across from her, patient and calm. She looked at him for a while, studying him. He told his heart to stop beating so loud he was never nervous why was he nervous now? She smirked, handing the document face down to him. 

“Actually, I don’t mind. Go ahead. Read them.”

Arthur turned the pile over, and he felt his stomach drop slightly. 

_Mission complete. Time to wake up._

He jerked his head back up to see the woman sitting in her chair as music began to play overhead. The kick.

“You knew!?” Ariadne shouted over the noise. She had seen Arthur’s reaction; it could be the only reason he would be acting the way he was.

“You’re in my dreams, of course I did!” she answered, and the floor fell out from below them, her laugh echoing as they woke in the hotel. The music was still playing as they were waking, and Arthur had just enough time to hear the woman say, “See you in a little bit loves” before he was back in the chair, fully in reality.

He unhooked the PASIV, striding over to the glass.

“Who the hell was that MacKaye?” he shouted through the glass, anger taking over him for a moment. MacKaye said nothing but “Your new teammate” as the door behind Arthur opened. The latter turned, ready to confront the woman from the dreams, but stopped, feeling the spark of nervousness in his system once again.

A man stood there, the same blue-green eyes regarding him as the woman’s had been. He looked to be in his thirties, and was broad in the shoulders. Running a hand through his hair, he chuckled slightly. Arthur felt his eyes narrow slightly as the man approached him, aware that Dom, Ariadne, and Yusuf were watching them with the intent to spring into action in case anything happened.

The man stopped in front of Arthur, looking at the man with a mix of emotions in his eyes that Arthur couldn’t describe. The man held out a hand, and said the words Arthur never thought he would ever hear, couldn’t believe he was hearing from the man who had somehow manipulated them (it was him Arthur knew it was) in the dream world.

“A pleasure to meet you, darling.”


	4. where is my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh gosh so apparently my mind went into overdrive & now i'm definitely feeling that plot start to form more, & this chapter was really fun to write (it may be a little bit of filler but hopefully nothing you would get bored by!), so thank you so so much for all the kudos/comments, i'm still blushing 84 years later  
> title from the song by the pixies

_No. No way. No fucking way nofuckingwaynofuckingwayitcan’tbethisguy—_

Keeping his face neutral, Arthur snorted slightly, replying with a snarl, “I bet it is.” The man’s eyes widened a fraction, and Arthur saw his offered hand tuck into a pocket as he rounded on MacKaye, safe behind the glass.

“He was in on it the whole time wasn’t he?” he asked, eyes narrowing dangerously. MacKaye just looked at him, defiant against the point man. 

“Of course I was, you were in my head for training,” the man said behind him, but Arthur continued staring at the military man, as if he hadn’t heard the other speak.

“He’s your new team mate, we had to see if the sedative worked, so why not try both together? He’s a forger, one of the best I’ve ever seen. Aren’t you Eames?”

Arthur turned his head to look at the man—Eames—his eyes still filled with dangerous intent. Eames seemed to not notice, just smiling a little before saying, “I’m good, I won’t deny that. The best? Who knows?”

“So all of it was a lie?” Arthur almost growled. His team could’ve avoided this, another dose they didn’t need, careful calculations checked thoroughly so they wouldn’t overdose and drop into the possibility of never waking up. Like so many Arthur had seen before. He was pissed.

“The ‘secrets’ were,” MacKaye answered. “But as far as testing structure holdings and seeing just how many we could send down, that was the true goal. We had to give you a mission, one that gave you purpose so that you couldn’t have possibly failed. And it appears you didn’t. You’re back, everyone’s intact, and I would call that a success.”

Arthur wanted to punch something. He wanted to destroy the room he stood in. He had forgotten (how could he have) that Synoco was a bastard of a company, and would use you in ways you wouldn’t know until the deed was done. 

And on top of this, the man who said the words etched onto his arm, the letters hiding under the sleeve of his jacket, just made Arthur’s day.

Just fucking wonderful.

“You’re dismissed. Do get some rest you all. I expect you back for another trial run in two days time.” MacKaye swept out of the room before anyone could say anything, the door clicking shut behind him.

Arthur couldn’t be in that room for another minute. Huffing out a breath, he turned and walked past Eames, past Ariadne, Dom, and Yusuf, and out of the room, the coldness of the building a blessing to feel on his skin.

He ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair, wondering exactly how his life could’ve gone to hell in a hand basket in almost a year’s time. He yanked up the sleeve, exposing the letters under the fluorescent light. They seemed to stand out even more than usual, as if sensing that the owner of the words was in his presence at last. His mind ran over the voice that spoke them, the English accent already stuck in his brain. 

“A pleasure to meet you, darling.”

“What a fucking—” Arthur muttered before the door behind him opened, forcing him to shove the sleeve down before turning.

Ariadne was alone as she approached him, her eyes concerned as she looked at the man. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she said, “Let’s go sit down somewhere.” 

She knew the words. Dom knew the words. Even Yusuf knew (he had confessed to seeing them after making sure everyone’s connecting cord was working correctly when they had been under once, which had required lifting Arthur’s sleeve. He didn’t press the point man, who at the time had waved it off, saying the chemist would’ve found out eventually anyways). 

But this was a whole other level that Arthur wasn’t sure he was ready to face yet. 

He let Ariadne lead the way, her arm threaded through hers. She was quiet until they reached a bench near the lobby of the building, and sat next to him as he leaned against the wall, feeling the coolness of the tile through his head. He closed his eyes, feeling his heart start to finally calm.

She was quiet for a few minutes, and then asked quietly, “Are you going to be alright?” 

“Be alright with which part? MacKaye lying to us, once again, or a stranger suddenly turning out to be…” Arthur muttered, his voice trailing off, the words _my soul mate_ stuck in his throat.

“Both.”

“He’s lied before, but not like this. I don’t know if I’ll forgive him for that one. As for asshole there…”

“Arthur.”

“Sorry Ariadne. I just…I’m not in the best place right now.”

“He said the words.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“ _Fuck_ no.”

_“Arthur.”_

“Not yet then. Not for a while. I need to see who he really is before I even consider the thought.” Arthur opened his eyes, seeing Ariadne look at him with understanding written on her face. He sat up, leaning his elbows against his knees. Ariadne looked at him as he stared at the floor, before a sly look overcame his face. Oh no. Ariadne knew that look.

“What are you planning?” she asked, her voice full of warning.

“I know exactly how I’ll really introduce myself to our Mr. Eames.”

“Please don’t.”

“It’ll be in the dream world.”

“Still don’t.”

“Depending on his reaction it could be very interesting.”

“Oh my god I can’t believe I’m friends with you.” Ariadne put her head in her hands as Arthur let out a small laugh, feeling just a little bit better since they had come out of the room.

*********

Eames watched the man leave, slamming the door behind him. The girl, Ariadne he remembered, looked from Eames to the door before getting up and following Arthur out. The door closed a little more quietly than before.

It was silent for a few moments before Eames said, “Very dynamic group I think.” Dom looked over at the forger, asking, “Were you going to tell us?”

“That’s why I came here once I knew you were awake. However I didn’t expect MacKaye to speak to you all first. I am sorry for that, maybe it would’ve been better if I had been here quicker. Less anger in the room maybe.”

“Arthur’s not one who favors the PASIV. He knows people who went to sleep while hooked up that never woke again,” Yusuf said quietly, glad that he always checked the doses three times before he hooked them into the machine. It was an easily avoided situation that many had forgotten to do.

“Unnecessary risk then?”

“Arthur hates that most of all.”

Eames fell silent at that, letting the name roll around in his mind. Of course, it didn’t mean anything, even though the exact words that had been said were etched right onto his left forearm. Plenty of people had said those words to him after meeting him (but not the one he wanted to meet) so why did Eames reject the thought that Arthur was no different? In the time Eames knew the man, outside of the dream that is, he’d been nothing but simmering anger and tension that practically leaked out of him. Still, Eames couldn’t help but think of Arthur inside the dream world. Nothing like the one who had left the room, but a man who knew exactly what to do and how to radiate assurance at the time it was needed. Two very different sides of one person. Eames secretly thought that the anger Arthur had held was only a fraction of what he was really feeling, as if reserving it for only the most appropriate time to use it. Synoco really knew how to pick the dangerous ones didn’t they? 

“I’m going home,” Dom told Yusuf, who nodded. The man’s eyes turned to Eames. “I’d be quiet the next couple of days. Arthur will be fine, but he’ll be wary of you.”

“Not the first time I’ve been told that.”

Dom was silent for a moment before saying, “Alright. Good night.”

Eames lifted a hand in farewell as the man walked out, leaving just the forger and the chemist behind in the room.

“So,” Eames started, walking over towards the doors, ready to put the day behind him. “Ariadne? For good or no?”

Yusuf looked immediately at the room behind the glass, but saw no one inside. Breathing a sigh of relief, he said, “Check next time before you say something.”

“For good, then?”

“Yes yes, for good.”

“Congratulations.”

“Just don’t question about it in front of them,” Yusuf said, turning his head slightly to motion towards the empty room.

“What’s happened?”

“Dom’s wife was threatened once. We don’t want more relationships used for their personal gain is all.”

Eames didn’t know that had happened. He was aware of practically everything the company had shown him about the team’s backgrounds, but nothing indicated that they had been threatened into the position they now occupied. Eames remembered it had only been Dom and Arthur at the time, and his brow furrowed.

“Arthur didn’t have anyone. He could’ve left.”

Yusuf didn’t seem surprised by Eames’ knowledge of their history. He expected no less from Synoco. “Mal is his friend. He couldn’t have left, even if he had wanted to.” 

Eames said nothing after that, letting the silence fill the room before he uttered a quick, “It was nice to meet you” to Yusuf before heading out the door, the latter’s reply of “You too” following him into the hall.

He walked out the side entrance, feeling the chill of the fall night slip through the fabric of his clothes. His apartment was only a few blocks from here, and he wanted, no, needed, to walk. As he began his trek towards home, he saw two familiar figures standing in the lobby of the building, one leaning against the wall while the other moved quickly in short, sharp turns, her hands constantly moving as she talked. Arthur looked more relaxed than before, and there was even a small smile on his face as he raised his arms into a long stretch. 

Eames was about to resume him walk when he looked again, noticing letters that peeked out from under Arthur’s left sleeve. All he could make out was an n and g before the clothes covered them up as Arthur then crossed his arms, still watching Ariadne as she ranted about the one class that she was in that was full of idiots and assholes.

 _That’s where it is,_ Eames thought. What “it” was Eames was now very determined to find out (he needed to know, had to know if he was still searching or not), but in time. First, he had to make up to them for today’s grievances. Especially to Arthur. Give them time to like him (like so many didn’t), to trust him (rarer still). He wanted to know, yes, but the team came first. He already liked them, and didn’t feel like moving to another. His mother had always told him to treat a group of people who were already friends with deliberate caution and truthfulness. Had said it so much it was ingrained into him. He didn’t like lying by words, but lying by face was a matter he felt more comfortable with. 

He wasn’t going to do either, he suddenly decided, his breath foggy as he made his way home. Not with these four. Not this time.

*********

Arthur had seen Eames outside as Ariadne let out steam, and something compelled him to stretch his arms up, expose the words a little. He did it before he realized it, and then crossed his arms, as if he had been planning it all along. Ariadne hadn’t seemed to notice, but Arthur could see from the corner of his eye that Eames had. The man looked determined all of a sudden, as if making a big decision, and looked away before he disappeared down the sidewalk into the night. Arthur looked at the spot where he had vanished, wondering what in the hell he was going to do.


	5. i'm not alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so life has been getting busy again, and since i only have 7 weeks of school left to prepare for finals, that means postings between chapters may be longer, but i'm not giving up on this story! i appreciate every comment/kudo left on here, and i hope you guys enjoy this chapter. thank you for being understanding and so awesome :)  
> title from the song by shinedown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small warning for mentioned anxiety attack, nothing major or in depth, just a note of one

Weeks passed. The team got better and better at heisting in dreams, almost to the point where they could communicate to the others with a barely spoken word. They were learning each other subconsciously and that’s when Arthur remembered to keep up guard, to keep an eye on everyone and everything (especially the forger).

Granted he had dug up information about the man the day after their initial meeting (one parent home, lived well enough, traveled as much as possible), but he was still mostly a mystery. His background findings yielded little, as if the man was already mostly off the grid, leaving only the basics to survive on. Arthur didn’t like it, but he conceded that he would learn the rest as time went on, by Eames himself or by alternate sources he could speak to.

The forger hadn’t become part of the group as quickly as Ariadne or Yusuf had, but that was changing, and fast. Ariadne had taken a shine to him, and often the others would see her pretending to box with the man before they assembled, practicing quick moves to take down the projections. Often he would comment on Yusuf’s sedatives, telling him the effects it was having on any of the others once they woke up. Arthur may have had a sharp memory, but Eames was one step ahead in that category. He would often talk to Dom in private, going over certain details of plans the others couldn’t know about if they were venturing into a team mate’s head. Despite the horrid beginnings, the two seemed to get along just fine in the end.

And goddammit it all, he was starting to get under Arthur’s skin, and not in the way Arthur thought he would.

It was infuriating.

He was one of the biggest in the group but had the gentlest of touches Ariadne told Arthur once, when she had had a small anxiety attack during a rather complicated “heist” and Eames had been with her, rubbing small circles on her back while she crushed his hand in her grip, grounding her. He was also a stubborn jackass when he wanted to be but that often happened when he and Arthur would argue or try to prove the other incorrect, regardless of situation or place. He would use as many innuendos as he possibly could (aimed mostly at Arthur of course), and was the one who tried to keep the mood light when it became too serious for comfort. 

Goddamn Eames.

As much as he annoyed the hell out of him, Arthur had to admit that Eames was actually a good person in many aspects. Never said the words out loud of course, lest the subject _hear_ the words and what a nightmare that would be for Arthur to come to work to every day so nope lips sealed. He also gave in to the fact that Eames was attractive even in the clothes that shouldn’t have matched (salmon and tweed should not go together how is this happening _how does that even work_ ) and especially when he smiled, teeth showing slightly.

The bastard.

Arthur was the last to finally let the first meeting between them go for the most part after all this uncovering. He didn’t have the energy or focus to keep it in mind. Not after all the things that they’ve been through. Eames seemed to realize this, but never tried to push his luck with the point man about it (he does however, step over the line and go twenty miles past it whenever it comes to innuendos and personal space good lord Arthur may kill him yet).

This was the small nudge that the team was granted before a heist they would take would push them over and truly hate everything Synoco was.

It was a simple one. It should’ve been a simple heist but then everything went so, so wrong.

Find the secret to the man’s estate and they’d be one step closer to being professionally on the field, ready to take on true clients. They were dropped into random volunteer heads, no clues about who they were or what they looked like for Arthur to dig up on. They were making him rely on his instincts as a point man should such a situation arise, and over the weeks he had them almost perfected to a T.

Keyword being almost.

He didn’t know it would be an old man who looked like he was on the verge of death, he didn’t know that the man had served on the enemy side of a war, _he didn’t know any of this_ and Arthur swore such vengeance the days after it would make even Eames wary of him.

The old man believed the story they knew by heart (“here to help keep you safe” “where do you feel safe” etc) and led them to a tall office building, a clear dome resting on the top. Ariadne had really outdone herself with the city, Arthur observed, noting how nothing was too detailed or too out of place for the projections to really feel their presence. Eames walked behind Arthur, and was quiet for once. The point man didn’t dislike it per se, but always felt more suspicious than when the forger was talking. He couldn’t explain why but he had to trust his instincts and right now they were screaming for Arthur to be careful.

The man led them in, taking them to the floor below the top level. He escorted them to a room at the end of the hall, motioning for them to go in. Arthur felt goosebumps run down his spine when the man didn’t walk into the room first, but before he could move or say a word, the man gave them a chilling smile and slammed the door, a lock clicking into place. Arthur lunged for the handle, but it refused to move, the door too heavy to ram against to break down. 

_Not good not good not good not good—_

Dom’s whisper of “Shit” brought Arthur back to the team, and he followed Dom’s gaze to the spot where he was looking. Right where the wall met the ceiling was a small, long vent. 

There was more than one however.

Arthur felt Eames next to him, trying to help him break down the door when Ariadne heard a hissing sound followed by a barely seen cloud of mist float out from the vents.

“Oh god,” she said, her hand grabbing her collar, shoving it up around her nose and mouth to block the gas as much as possible. It was accumulating fast, and she began to feel sick, her stomach roiling in distress.

Arthur stopped shoving at the door around that time, feeling light headed and sick to his stomach. He felt himself growing weak quickly, the mist suffocating as he slid down against the door, trembling as his insides began protesting against the invading gas.

Arthur heard Eames says his name as he too fell to the floor, voice laced with concern even though they knew it was a dream it was just a dream but their bodies didn’t know that they thought they _were_ dying—

It became too much, and Arthur felt his eyelids slip close as the gas finally suffocated him.

He woke with a start, his stomach still roiling and for the first time in months, he ripped out the PASIV tube and flung himself out of the chair, barely managing to reach the bucket next to him as he retched up the breakfast he had had just hours ago. He was shaking and he still felt light headed and oh god maybe he actually _was_ dying and this was it—

A large, warm hand settled on his upper back as he kneeled there trembling, rubbing small soothing circles onto his spine while he collected himself. He didn’t flinch, just accepted the touch, welcomed it even. He needed to know he was in reality in any way.

Eames said nothing, just kneeled beside Arthur as his stomach protested once more, a warm presence beside the point man. Eventually the trembling began to calm, and he no longer felt like his insides were trying to escape him. He moved so when he sat back he was leaning against one of the chairs, Eames’s hand letting him do so (though not without a hint of reluctance Arthur noted). Opening an eye, he saw the forger looking at him with concern and anger in his eyes, though he knew the latter wasn’t for him.

“Never been gassed like that before,” Arthur muttered, and Eames turned to look at MacKaye through the window, a glare set on his features that Arthur had never seen before.

“What the fuck MacKaye?” he barked, not moving from his position.

“What is it Mr. Eames?” MacKaye sounded interested yet bored at the same time, voice floating through the haze as Arthur began overcoming the lightheadedness.

“We were gassed for god’s sakes! Who the fuck did you let us drop into?”

“An old veteran friend of mine. He was very interested in our work.”

“Next time he pulls that stunt I’ll send him off this building through a window,” Eames growled, eyes narrowing.

Ariadne had gotten sick as well, Dom and Yusuf making sure she was okay before helping her stand up, supporting her whenever she began to falter. Eames turned back to Arthur, the anger fading as he held out a hand to him. Arthur took it, not caring about anything except downing some sleeping pills so he wouldn’t have nightmares about this and passing out. Eames hauled him upright, a hand landing on his shoulder to steady him as he balanced on shaking legs.

“Although it would go against schedule, I suppose you all have earned a week of rest. I expect you back without any complications.” Arthur barely heard MacKaye slam the door behind him, and cursed at the military man under his breath before coughing sharply.

“Come on Arthur, you’re not any good right now if we keep you here,” Eames said, leading him after the other three as they made their way out of the building. Dom offered Ariadne a ride to her place to make sure she made it home okay, and Yusuf told her to call him immediately should she begin to feel unwell again. She told him she would, gave him a tight hug, and followed Dom to the car, the man keeping an arm around her shoulders so she wouldn’t fall backwards should the lightheadedness return.

“What a rat bastard. If I see that bloke again I’ll wring his neck for good measure. He _enjoyed_ sending us into that room, I saw that smile he gave us, I just know he did. He may be a veteran but he was not for the side that won,” Eames rambled as he walked Arthur towards the latter’s apartment. Arthur was grateful for that, letting Eames call the old man every name under the sun and in different languages as well. Eames knowing where he lived wasn’t surprising either, since the whole team needed to know the others’ locations in case of emergency, but it didn’t feel like any time had passed and then they were standing in front of the door, Eames’s hand still on Arthur’s back.

“As much as I would love to keep you company love you need rest without disturbance,” Eames told him, and Arthur glanced at him, saying nothing. Eames looked at him seriously, saying, “I’m closest to you location wise. If anything happens or god forbid you actually have to go to the hospital you damn well better tell me immediately Arthur.”

“It was just a practice Eames, we are not actually suffering from being gassed.”

“Twenty minutes ago you sounded like you were about to cough out your life force so I can’t really agree with you Arthur.”

The point man sighed slightly, saying, “Fine, fine, same to you you pushy asshole.”

Eames smiled, saying, “That’s the Arthur I know” before squeezing his shoulder and walking to the stairs, glancing back a little before exiting through the door.

Arthur quickly peeled off his jacket, tie, and shoes, grabbing a glass of water and the pills before collapsing onto his bed, the warmth of Eames’s hand still lingering as he fell into a dreamless sleep.


	6. truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been two weeks & i am so so sorry i haven't updated! life got crazy & i could barely write, but now that everything has calmed down, i was able to finish this next chapter, which may be the longest i've written since i started this story. we're reaching about near the middle, so it's going to start really going soon. hope you all like this as much as i do!  
> title from the song by balmorhea

The day after the failed heist Eames received a text from Ariadne and Dom, telling him everything was fine. Although he felt a small dash of disappointment when nothing arrived from Arthur, he knew it was to be expected; the man called more often than sending messages. Still, a small nagging hinted at Eames for the next couple of days when Arthur had yet to acknowledge he was okay from the attack. Eames didn’t want to push at the younger man, aware that if he called Arthur he’d get snapped at for worrying too much and cause even more friction than what was already in place.

However, in the early morning of day four, he received a call, his phone ringing shrilly in the quiet of the apartment. Glancing at the ID, he saw it was Ariadne, and the small nagging upped in size; Ariadne rarely called unless something wasn’t right, and after their last practice it didn’t help the worry hanging in his chest.

“Everything alright?” he asked upon answering, sitting up in bed.

“I’m fine, not been sick or anything, but…”

“What is it?”

“Arthur should’ve alerted us by now that he was okay. Even if he didn’t call he always sends a group e-mail so we can update each other in case of sickness, like what happened a few days ago. I haven’t gotten a message, and neither has Dom or Yusuf,” she said, sounding a little anxious.

Eames quickly grabbed his computer, clicking into the team group that was always open in the corner of the screen. Upon refreshing it, he saw nothing new.

“I haven’t either.”

“Eames this isn’t like him. I called last night since he reached the minimum limit of no contact, but it went right to voicemail. Dom and Yusuf are too far to go check on him and my school is pulling me in today so can you go look in on him? At least tell us he’s fine?”

Eames was grabbing for his regular clothes before Ariadne finished her sentence, shoulder holding the phone to his ear as he started getting dressed.

“Don’t worry Ariadne; I’ll make sure he’s fine. Then I’ll have some strong words with him about communication once you know.”

“Make sure to give him some from me as well,” she told him, and he chuckled.

“Will do my dear.”

They hung up, and Eames grabbed his keys off the counter, locking away the apartment before descending down the steps quickly. Ignoring the worry in his heart, he walked towards Arthur’s apartment as fast as he could, the setting moon shining down on his back.

Arthur lived near the top floor of the structure, and Eames wasted no time on the elevator, taking the stairwell instead. The code to get into the floor flowed from his memory and he quietly shut the door behind him lest he wake the few neighbors that lived here. 

Arthur’s door wouldn’t budge when he checked it, and he felt slightly better; at least he was alert enough to keep unwanted guests out. However, that was no match for Eames’s lock picking skills. He managed to undo the two locks Arthur had inset into the door in almost record time, and slipped the tools into his pocket as he entered inside, shutting the door behind him. 

Nothing was moving, silence lying heavy against his ears; he thought he could hear his heartbeat if he stood still long enough. He made his way past the small, barely used kitchen and living room, reaching the shut door that held Arthur’s bedroom. He hesitated for a moment, knowing he was invading Arthur’s territory in the most personal way possible, but the urge to know that the point man was okay and safe overrode the thought. Pushing the door open, he had begun reaching for the gun sitting at the small of his back in case of trouble when he saw Arthur lying in bed, and felt his worry unclench from his chest some.

“Arthur?” he whispered, taking a couple steps in. He could see the younger man breathing, slow and evenly, curled on his side with the sheets pulled up around him. Eames’s eyes glanced towards the night stand, and saw Arthur’s gun as well as his phone sitting close to the bed, a mostly empty water glass and bottle of sleeping pills next to them.

Eames’s brow furrowed at the sight; Arthur hated sleeping pills, admitting at one point to the forger that they slowed his reactions and made him feel heavy and sick. If Arthur had resorted to taking them, something wasn’t right with him.

“Arthur,” he said, voice a little louder. Still, the point man didn’t move. He crossed over until he was kneeling in front of the man, taking in the relaxed face of someone who was too deep in sleep to be woken up until the medication wore off. It was then that Eames noticed the dark circles that ran under Arthur’s eyes, looking like bruises. He also saw that Arthur was thinner than usual, and not from the past few days. 

_He’s going to run himself into the ground if he doesn’t start worrying about himself more,_ Dom’s voice echoing in his head when the two had been speaking privately. Arthur had almost collapsed into his chair as he had said that, his hands rubbing against his eyes.

“Oh love, what are you doing to yourself?” Eames whispered, holding himself back from the urge to reach up and smooth Arthur’s hair back from his face. He was already impeding upon the point man more than would be allowed; no need to make things worse. Arthur’s lack of reaction to his words didn’t ease the concern he felt. Arthur could be awake and have his gun in hand, safety pulled back and ready to fire in the time it took most people to open their eyes. To see the opposite was unnerving.

He made his way out of the room, shutting the door once again. There would be no use in trying to wake Arthur up if he was in such a deep sleep, and from how he looked, Eames was intent on letting the man rest as much as he could.

Instead he sat down on the couch, pulling out his phone and calling up Ariadne, telling her Arthur was okay, just heavily sleeping to the point of almost being in a coma. She laughed slightly, telling Eames thank you before saying she had to leave for a meeting, and they hung up.

Eames sat there for a moment before it actually hit him that he was in Arthur’s apartment. Actually in it. He’d visited Ariadne a few times, Dom and Yusuf as well, but he’d only ever seen a glimpse of the inside of Arthur’s place the times he’d come over either on his own or with the others.

Eames felt the pull to investigate, to learn more about the point man, but held himself back. He was breaching some serious rules (Arthur Rules) already; this may be the reason Arthur would need to beat him with a blunt object finally. Even if it wasn’t for those rules, Eames knew he probably wouldn’t have gotten up anyways, the feeling to protect the privacy Arthur held a little louder than the curious side of him. He felt tiredness creep through him, and before he knew it he had fallen asleep.

********

“Hey. Why are you on my couch?”

Eames blinked awake quickly at the voice, and when his eyes focused, saw that it belonged to Arthur, looking down at him with an annoyed look, arms crossed. A light bathrobe covered his arms, including the elusive tattoo Eames knew Arthur had.

“Ah, good morning to you too,” Eames replied, sitting up more against the back of the pillow. Arthur’s eyebrow raised a little higher, and the forger said, “Ariadne was worried. You haven’t been responding to calls nor have you emailed anyone that you felt alright.”

“And that constituted breaking into my apartment?”

“Less than thirty seconds, not my personal best but I always try to break it.”

“Eames—”

“I don’t have a key do I? And for all we know you could’ve been snatched up while we were attempting to move around like normal people.” Eames felt a little ill at the thought, but didn’t let it show. Arthur looked at him for a few moments before relaxing, face falling into its natural resting look.

“Apologies.”

Eames shook his head slightly, saying, “Don’t blame you love. Getting gassed isn’t particularly fun, nor is looking like the walking dead. When did you last get good sleep besides these past three days?”

Arthur was silent at that, and Eames didn’t press him. It was quiet for a few moments before Eames asked, "Feeling better?" 

"More than three days ago. But what about you, you didn't get sick."

"I did when I got home, was too busy carrying you here to worry about myself honestly." Arthur titled his head at the forger, saying nothing when suddenly Eames’ phone chimed, a message appearing on his screen.

“Ah, she says everything’s good.”

“Ariadne?”

“Mal.”

It was silent again for a moment before Arthur repeated in a curious voice. “Mal?”

“Yeah, short for—”

“Mallorie.”

“Sharp as a tack you are.”

“Shut up. Mal, THE Mal, Mallorie Lucille Cobb?”

Eames frowned a little, feeling some confusion. “Yes, what about her?”

“You know her? You’ve never met her in person how could you know her?”

“She was my best mate when we were kids, before she moved to France.”

The silence this time lasted so long Eames had to look up to make sure Arthur was actually still in the room with him. The point man stared at him with an incredulous look on his face, a rare look that made Eames wish he had a camera on him.

“And you neglected to tell us this because…?”

“Thought Cobb would’ve told you by now, or even Mal. Then again, it has been some time since I last saw her, since before the military I think.”

“This world is too goddamn small,” Arthur muttered as he walked past the couch into the kitchen, grabbing a cup and waiting patiently as the coffee machine slowly awakened. He had a thought, and turned back to the forger, who was turning around to face him.

“Did you look around my apartment?” Arthur asked, feeling a little more tense than he had been a few moments ago. This place was the last bit of sanctuary he had from the horrors of the world; to have it ruined would be chaotic and unnerving, though he’d never show it.

“What? No, never, not unless you’d let me.”

Arthur believed him on that, but had to be sure. “Don’t lie to me Eames.”

“Arthur,” Eames said, getting up from the couch and approaching the counter that separated them. The man hadn’t moved, eyes still narrowed. “I swear to you I did not look around your apartment while you were asleep. I only saw here and your room, and not even the entirety of it. I know you wouldn’t do it to me, and I didn’t want to do it to you.”

Arthur looked at him carefully, eyes searching for the tic he knew he could spot at a lie. There was none. Seeming content with the answer, he turned around as the coffee dinged at him, feeling his shoulders relax.

“Goodness me Arthur I haven’t seen you relax like that since our first official working together job when you shot me in the face to wake me up.”

Arthur felt a smile threaten to tug at his lips, but he only let out a smirk as he drank the warm liquid. “It was retribution.”

“Though hopefully not one to occur again. May I?” Eames had walked around the counter, gesturing at the now probably scalding coffee. Arthur nodded, watching Eames carefully as the man grabbed a mug from the still open cupboard, his shoulder muscle straining against the fabric of his shirt as he reached up. Not that Arthur minded.

“What did Mal mean, ‘everything’s good?’” Arthur asked.

“Ah, well she was expecting some news about family and apparently everything’s fine,” Eames replied, focusing on the pot so he didn’t burn himself again. Apparently Eames and coffee pots were mortal enemies since he had yet not burnt himself on one, and he wanted to break the streak dammit.

“I didn’t know about that.”

“She didn’t want to worry you. She said you have enough to deal with here, if it was serious enough she would drag you in, mind. It’s nice to catch up with her anyways. So don’t worry Arthur, if anything serious happens, you’ll be one of the first to know.”

Arthur made a non-committal noise, saying, “Before military?”

“Surprisingly enough we managed to stay friends before I signed up. Unfortunately that kind of life makes it hard to keep in touch, and I lost her address during a move day. I didn’t know any other way of contacting her and that was that. Ran into her about a year ago while on a walk. Couldn’t believe it, but it was a nice surprise.”

“Does Dom know?”

“If you didn’t know darling, then probably not. Not that she’s keeping me secret, but it’s just something you forget sometimes, or maybe she thought you knew by me telling you or she’d already said. Either way, you know now.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on Cobb’s face,” Arthur said, a smile breaking through slightly at the idea. Eames saw it, feeling warmth spread through his chest. Arthur should smile more often, he decided, taking a sip of the cooling liquid, he looked younger, less troubled with things no one should have to deal with. Or people he should’ve met under different circumstances. Speaking of which…

“Why’d you believe me when I said I didn’t snoop?”

Arthur looked over at him, saying, “I just knew.”

“Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit.”

“Then how? From…” He bit back the word, but at Arthur’s look he relented. “Trust?”

Although the younger man sighed slightly, his gaze didn’t waver. “Some. Yes, some trust is why I believed you. That and you didn’t show your tic.”

Eames coughed slightly, nearly choking on the drink. “Didn’t show my what?”

“Tic. A tell. Really Eames, does your mind live in the gutter?”

“Owns the damn place top to bottom. What’s my tell?”

“Ah, can’t tell you that.”

“Know the all the secrets but not tell them? How very Arthur indeed,” Eames said, clearing his throat again. “Alright, if you can tell my lies from my truths, then tell me my own lie: I have four sisters, my father left when I was too young to remember, I absolutely cannot stand dogs, and I have more than one tattoo on me.” He stilled under Arthur’s scrutinizing eyes, the urge to move around, get out from under it creeping higher and higher until Arthur blinked, saying, “You love dogs Eames, almost as much as you love cats.”

“Except for those small yappy ones. Those are not dogs.”

“Dog is a dog is a dog.”

“Not a _proper_ dog, then. Give me a border collie any day,” Eames stated, taking a drink before saying, “My turn.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I showed you mine now you show me yours.”

“Your mind does own the gutter. Fine, but you won’t spot it.

“Only had my mother and I growing up, no siblings, I was in the military for two years before leaving for school, and I have yet to meet my soul mate.” Arthur realized what he said and quickly shut up, keeping his face blank under the older man’s gaze while inside he felt his stomach tighten. The last one was a truth to Eames but a lie to himself. What the hell was he doing? It was as if his subconscious was trying to take over and ruin everything.

“You spent more than two years in military didn’t you?”

That was true. “Three years, actually.”

“I’ve always been a good guesser.”

“That’s cheating Mr. Eames.”

“Fine I didn’t see your bloody tell, but I was still right.”

Huffs of laughter escaped Arthur before he stopped them, feeling a blush threaten to take over his face at the fond look Eames was giving him. Setting down the mug, he said, “I do apologize for the mistake. It was unprofessional, and definitely a shit friend thing to do.”

“Next time just take a moment to shoot us a notice yeah? Though your lock is a good practice tool,” Eames chuckled as Arthur ran a hand down his face, a yawn being stifled behind it. But the forger still noticed the darkness under Arthur’s eyes, and how he still needed the rest.

“I’ll let myself out, you just rest, alright? MacKaye is driving us into the ground but I— _we_ , will not lose one of the best point men out there from exhaustion.”

“How can I sleep when you’re still talking?” Arthur said as he walked back towards his room.

“Smart-ass,” he heard Eames mutter before opening the door. “Goodbye Arthur.”

“Goodbye Eames.”

The lock clicked into place as the door swung shut between them.


	7. just the way i'm not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another two weeks before i could finally update, and i want to thank you all for being so patient lately as i near my finals. the next update probably won't be for longer (due to the latter and semi-writer's block), but i promise this story will not be abandoned! chapter title from the song by all time low.

Arthur sat in the conference room with the others, feeling a heavy weight resting on his chest as MacKaye spoke to a few people outside. They were obviously men and women of high status, and Arthur had no doubt about the content of their conversation. The group nodded almost simultaneously at something MacKaye had said, and he grinned, looking like a shark baring its teeth. They shook hands, and walked away from the windows before MacKaye entered, placing a thick folder on the table as he sat.

“You five are a prime group; we’ve already got influential businesses clamoring for you to use, and you’ve only been available since this morning,” MacKaye told them, grinning at them. Arthur resisted the urge to move and punch him right across the face. It wouldn’t do to get them in trouble, not yet anyways.

“And the people outside?” Dom asked, laced fingers resting on the edge of the tabletop opposite MacKaye. They had decided to let Dom talk, since out of the group he was the one who MacKaye seemed to regard almost as an equal. That and Ariadne was positive her voice would shake if she tried to; the anger from her first dream had not faded in the slightest.

“Your first clients, officially outside of this building. You’ll be working for them as you go into a rival company of their own, and once you get in you will go down three levels—”

“Three?” Dom whispered, his brow furrowing.

“—and convincing the owner’s son to dismantle the company; it’s been going downhill for years but your clients want it to be a permanent decision.”

“We’ve never done three levels of dreaming,” Dom pointed out, and Arthur could almost feel Eames shift behind him, turning his piercing gaze to the military man across from them.

“You will today. You have two weeks in your client’s hold, and they expect you to be ready to change a boy’s mind by the end of it, three levels down.”

“Boy? How old is he?” Dom asked, an edge bleeding into his voice.

“Fifteen as of last month.”

“Then the answer is no.”

“I beg your pardon,” MacKaye said as he stood, radiating authority. All of Arthur’s military training was sneaking in, making him want to stand at attention in front of MacKaye. But he held back, his eyes never leaving where the man was.

“Children’s minds are too influential, the possibility of damaging their decision more severe than an adult, so no. We are not helping these people.” Dom had stood as well, not backing down from MacKaye. Dom may be more of a push over than Arthur was, but when he stood his ground he was not someone to get tangled with.

MacKaye regarded them for a moment before glancing down at the folder. When his eyes found the group again, there was a predatory gleam in them that had Yusuf and Ariadne shrink back slightly, and Arthur felt his hand twitch on the arm rest, wanting for him to reach for the gun at his back.

“I haven’t forgotten your wife Dom Cobb,” MacKaye spoke, and Arthur saw Dom pale out of the corner of his eye. “Do you really have a say in what clients you will or will not take? Does Miss Ariadne, with her mother in America, or Mr. Yusuf with his brother currently studying in Germany? No, I think you will take these clients, and thank me for finding you work so soon after your year of training.”  


He didn’t mention anyone pertaining to Arthur or Eames, but Arthur knew MacKaye would name either Mal or one of their friends in the group to get them to cooperate. It was unspoken but the two didn’t doubt it for a moment.

“You don’t wish for me to visit them, invade their lives like you believe I did?” MacKaye continued, hands folding behind his back.

Dom said nothing, but slowly sat down, a glare fixed on the man. There was a tense silence before MacKaye nodded, saying, “Good. Glad we were able to straighten out any remaining doubts.”

He turned to leave, and Arthur heard Eames say, “The veteran. He wasn’t interested in your project only, was he?”

MacKaye had the door open, halfway out when he heard Eames’ question. He turned back to the group, eyes narrowed in the gleam again.

“Oh he was very interested. But someone needed you to remember that there’s more than the quick way out of the dream that you all have been taking lately. Besides, you also have been getting bolder in your statements towards me; you needed a reminder of who is in control in this place.”

Arthur felt his stomach rolling with anger, but his expression didn’t change. He couldn’t deny the bigger twitch in his hand, wanting nothing more than to put a bullet in between MacKaye’s eyes.  


MacKaye smiled at them, saying, “Three levels down, no more, no less” before walking out, the door slamming shut behind him.

It was quiet for a moment before Ariadne said, “There are not enough words in any of the languages I can speak that equal how much I want to hit him with a chair.”

“Or throw him out a window,” Eames offered up as Arthur turned his chair towards them, now able to see their faces.

“Why not both?” Yusuf muttered angrily, and Ariadne squeezed his hand on the table, content to let it stay when he held on.

Dom was silent before saying, “Mal’s pregnant.”

Everyone turned to look at him, eyes wide. He glanced up at them. “I wanted to wait until tonight, but…she’s been insistent on you all knowing. In case…” He let the sentence fade away, but everyone understood anyways.

Eames clapped a hand on his shoulder, saying, “Congratulations mate. Even though we just were told we were gassed to death on purpose, at least one positive thing happened today.”

Ariadne got up and gave Dom a side hug, her voice a little lighter than before as she congratulated him. Arthur and Yusuf did as well, and Dom sighed before leaning back in his chair. “This is going to be hell isn’t it,” he said as he covered his eyes, feeling tired.

“More than likely. But if you need a sitter I’m always available,” Eames offered, and Arthur swore he could already feel a headache coming on.

“I would not trust you with my kid as far as I can throw you,” Dom replied, not looking at the forger.

“I’m great with kids! I’ve got nieces and nephews who can attest for that!”

“Really?”

“Well not _really_ , I’ve only seen them a few times but during those times they liked me.”

Yep, definitely a headache Arthur decided, setting an elbow on the table and rubbing one of his temples. Ariadne looked like she wasn’t trying to laugh while Yusuf hid a smile behind his hand, mood lifting as Eames and Dom went back and forth before Dom finally conceded to let the man win the argument. Before Eames could feel too victorious though, Dom’s eyes landed on Arthur and he said, “Only if Arthur is with you though.”

And the headache is turning into a migraine. Arthur glared at Dom, who hid a knowing smile as Eames turned towards the point man, looking expectant.

“Why me?” Arthur muttered, covering his face with his hands. He knew why of course but apparently there was more to it than that.

“Eames watches the kid, you keep an eye on Eames,” Dom stated simply, and Arthur could feel the want to smack his head onto the tabletop increase even more.

“Sounds good to me,” Eames practically purred, eyes on Arthur a moment longer before turning away.

Yeah, definitely a migraine.

*********

Apparently Yusuf had already been working on the possibility of going down three levels in a dream as he produced a vial of carefully measured serum from the mess on his table. It was getting close to afternoon when they had convened in their practice room, and Arthur had already begun his research into Janus Company’s rival, Markus and Jet Inc. Both were top businesses in the progression of turning from oil to elect or natural resources, but Markus and Jet Inc had been falling behind as their stocks fell. He knew that even though it was failing, it would still take decades more before the company caved. It they were able to convince Nate Markus to sell off the empire though, the families at least wouldn’t fall down with it. Arthur turned his thoughts back to the team as Yusuf began explaining the newest in his line of dream inducing serums.

“Each shot gives you a half hour in the real world, but two hours in level one, six hours level two, and twelve hours in the last level. Each shot also is calculated to your specific build and weight as well, which will keep everyone’s time connected.”

“And?” Dom asked. Yusuf looked at him, hesitating. “We need to know Yusuf, but we trust you.”

The scientist relaxed a little before continuing. “The draw of this serum is it can induce a coma like state, by means of too much serum or going down beyond the designated levels. That’s why I cannot mix up who receives a certain amount; if I do, one of you may never be awake again.”

All serums had a draw back; some made the user feel water logged for a day upon waking, others sick and unable to eat. But this was one of the worst Arthur had heard of. He wasn’t keen on taking it, but what Dom said was true; he trusted Yusuf to do just fine.

“And I’m guessing we get to see one of us take it today?” Eames asked, nodding towards the vial in Yusuf’s hands. The latter nodded, and looked up at Arthur.

Of fucking course.

Arthur sighed but walked over to him, and Yusuf gestured to the chair next to him. Arthur rolled up his right sleeve, eyes intent on not looking at Eames or the rest of the team. Mostly Eames though.

“Ready,” he said, letting the scientist grip his arm before gently pushing the serum in. Arthur began to feel the effects immediately, his vision growing dark, voices sounding like they were underwater.

“You sure about this Yusuf?” Eames’ voice. Light, but…worried?

“I’ve run too many tests to think otherwise.”

And then Arthur was out.

*********

Eames watched Arthur drop off into the dreams, chin almost touching his chest. He looked relaxed again, and Eames couldn’t help but think of the similarities between this Arthur and the one he had seen in the apartment a week ago. Only the deepest of sleeps kept the guard off of Arthur’s frame, and the serum seemed to be just like the sleeping pills.

Yusuf bent down in front of Arthur, snapping his fingers next to his ears. Usually with the serum they worked with, that would be loud enough to be a kick, waking Arthur up. However, he didn’t move at the sound. Yusuf then slapped his face, another test. Eames almost stepped forward to stop him, but stopped himself in time. They’d all been slapped awake by Yusuf before, but Eames still didn’t like it. Yusuf did the shaking of the shoulders, and still Arthur slept on. If it wasn’t for the up and down movement of his chest, he could easily look…Eames quit the thought before it could finish, feeling his heart beat a little faster than before.

“Last test,” Yusuf said, grabbing the back and arm rest of the chair and tipping it over. The falling sensation should’ve woken him like it had so many times before, and Eames had been there for the later tests to see the flailing limbs and had tried very hard (see: not at all the fucking bastard) not to laugh at the noises Arthur made. Sure Arthur would smack his shoulder if he commented on the sounds, but at least he was awake.

This time though, he didn’t, face still relaxed as he lay on the mat Yusuf had put down just for that reason. It was so unnerving that Eames asked almost immediately, “He’s okay, yeah?”

“He’s fine, just deep enough to not feel the kick. You’ll need a series of them in the dream levels to wake you fully from this, but I have a failsafe injected in case a kick misses the time.” And with that he took a pitcher of water and dumped it straight on Arthur’s head.

Out of all the times Eames saw Arthur awaken from the serum sleeping, he’d never seen him look as pissed off as he was now. The point man practically jumped up like a cat out of water, his face close to resembling one as water dripped down it.

“Always does the trick,” Yusuf said, keeping the amusement out of his voice as he set down the pitcher. “Welcome back Arthur.”

“Your serum worked,” the point man said, eyes narrowing. “I didn’t expect to wake up on the floor though.”

“Had to test all the kicks, plus the failsafe. Now that it’s proven to work, we can now train one last time, once you’re dried off of course.”

Arthur huffed slightly, turning his eyes to the team. Ariadne and Dom had the decency to say “We’ll wait for you” before walking away, leaving Arthur with a smirking Eames.

“Don’t,” Arthur warned.

“What an adorable cat you could be Arthur,” Eames mused.

“I will shove a poker chip down your throat I swear to god.”

“Have to reach for my pockets then wouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t specify it as your chip Eames.”

“Do you have a hidden hobby that we don’t know about?”

“Says the pot.”

“At least I’m open about it. Do we need an intervention for you?”

“You’re also the goddamn kettle.”

Yusuf shook his head slightly, a small smile on his face as the two bantered back and forth.

What an old married couple these two were already.


	8. the bad in each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally i update! finals are all completed & my semi-writer's block has been fading as of late, so i am very proud to add another chapter to this little fic :) the plot keeps growing in my head so this may actually turn out to be longer than i expected, but i hope you all enjoy it in the end. thank you so much for being patient, & expect another chapter in about a week or two! title from the song by feist.

After another tension filled meeting with MacKaye, the team was shipped off from the building they’d come to know by heart to America, specifically New York City. MacKaye told them they would be gone for up to three months in order to guarantee the company they were working for that it was a through and clean job. Arthur felt his insides twist slightly at the thought of them essentially re-writing a child’s mind, the plane they were on flying through the night, his team members in the same row with him. He’d obviously been stuck with the window seat and Eames on his other side, but the forger hadn’t tried to pull any of his usual demeanors with Arthur. They talked a little about nothing every other hour, if only to pass the time, and once again, Arthur didn’t mind it at all (he really, _really_ should have why didn’t he) when Eames practically fell asleep on him during the long flight, body warm in the slightly chilled plane. He didn’t try to shift while the man was sleeping, the small book light clipped to the book he held the only brightness in the now completely silent and dark aircraft. He glanced across from him to see Dom asleep, head resting on a propped up elbow, while Ariadne and Yusuf were leaning against the other, hands intertwined as they slept. It was the first time they could publically do it without fear of Synoco catching wind of their relationship, and the relief in that was written all over their relaxed bodies.

They all were, really. Out of Synoco and MacKaye’s direct attention, Arthur had felt his muscles relax enough that he could feel a semblance of normality (he did keep his guard up though; never could be too careful). He shut off the light, throwing the row into darkness, and rested the book on the pull down tray before leaning back, a long breath escaping him. He’d liked flying his whole life, but now he was grateful for it; the slight rumbling of the engine under him felt soothing, causing him to drop off into a deep sleep that required no pills or serum.

Eames woke once during the night flying to see Arthur’s head leaning against his shoulder, breaths slow and even. He had looked better since the Incident, as they now called it, eyes less bruised and more color in his face than before. Arthur huffed out a breath, and for a moment Eames thought he’d woken him, but the forger’s eyes widened slightly when instead Arthur settled even closer into Eames’ shoulder, the usually slicked back hair sticking up in places. Eames felt a smile grow as he looked at the younger man; as much as they argued he did have a small spot in his heart for Arthur, which only grew fonder whenever Arthur showed his secret side, the caring, trusting one. Eames gently leaned back in his seat, feeling warmth spread through his chest as he fell back asleep. They would wake separately when the sun shined through the windows, only their shoulders touching slightly to show any evidence of the closeness they’d allowed on the plane. Eames said nothing about it, and neither did Arthur. However, they would remember the contact that had never before happened between them for the rest of the job. 

Fucking hell.

*********

Of course, the others, knowing the secret Arthur held, decided to take matters into their own hands with the two. They arrived at the hotel around midday, jet lagged from the flight and feeling off from time jumping. Dom motioned for the others to wait in the lobby as he went to check in, feeling grateful towards Synoco (for the first and last time) and Janus Company for the provisions for the trip; it would save them time and stress.

“I need to sleep,” Ariadne muttered, leaning her head down on her arms that rested on the suitcase handle, sleep threatening to overwhelm her.

“Not yet sleepyhead,” Yusuf replied, rubbing the back of her hair gently. She groaned, standing up straight again as Dom began walking over.  


“It seems our companies are helping us but want us on restrictions as well,” he said, looking over the papers in his hands. It wasn’t really a lie, they did say to stay as inconspicuous as possible, but they had been allowed to choose the hotel and rooms in order to make their stay more relaxed. Of the five, only three knew this.

“Won’t hurt,” Arthur murmured, feeling bone tired and just wanting to lie down for a while before he could begin to set up his findings in the room.

Dom just nodded, and they made their way to the fourteenth floor, managing to get the last rooms down the hall. Dom quietly handed their keys over, and it was then that Arthur realized what exactly Dom had meant.

“How many rooms did you say we had again?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“It would be more suspicious if we each had our own room so three.” Dom wasn’t looking at him, and _oh no_.

“Ariadne and Yusuf have the last on the left, I’m next door to them, which leaves last on the right to you two.” Dom faced him now, and the mischievous gleam Arthur hadn’t seen in over a year was in his eyes.

Arthur was going to strangle him. No, not strangle, that was too easy a way out, no he was going to _finish him—_

 _You fucking bastard I swear to god once this job is over I’m going to RUIN YOU—_ Arthur’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Eames chuckling slightly, and the urge to turn around and give him the same treatment he was mentally directing at Dom was enormous. He didn’t though, still staring at Dom as he thought of ways to ruin his friend’s life for the next millennial. 

“Well, if it’ll keep us from off the radar,” was all the forger said before opening up the door to his room. Ariadne threw Arthur a “good luck” glance before she quietly shut the door behind her and Yusuf. Oh she knew too, oh he _had_ to get those kind of friends seriously what the fuck—

“Since we’re all still a little tired from the flight we’ll just see each other in the morning yeah?” Dom didn’t get Arthur a chance to answer before he too was in his room, the door closing before Arthur could yell after him.

 _Under control, stay controlled,_ Arthur told himself over and over, knowing that if he did anything within the next five minutes while pissed off he would most likely end up shooting someone (in this case it would probably be Eames since he was the closest in vicinity).

“Coming love?” Eames asked, his voice tired but still polite. He could see something was bothering Arthur and didn’t feel like going to the ER today, so all innuendos and euphemisms were on lock down until the morning. But oh how he wanted to make them.

Arthur said nothing as he walked past Eames into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed closest to the door. Eames’ brow furrowed slightly at the sight but let him be, setting his stuff on the bed next to the window before sitting in the chair near it. Arthur had developed a habit of sitting in the place closest to where the entrance was; it wasn’t out of reassurance that he could get out in an emergency, but so that way almost no one they didn’t know could get in. He wasn’t the best shooter on the team for nothing. 

“They did it on purpose,” Arthur huffed quietly, cracking his knuckles, another habit he’d also fallen into whenever he wanted a small outlet for his emotions. 

Eames winced slightly. “Arthur, must you do that? One day you’ll break them instead of crack them if you keep it up.”

“That is highly unlikely Eames but thank you for your concern.” Deciding making Eames wince as his outlet, he twisted his neck until it too popped, followed by his back.

“Must you.”

Arthur smirked slightly, feeling more relaxed than he had a few minutes ago. He got up and kneeled down next to his suitcase, bringing out the bound papers that held all the research he had poured so many nights of sleep’s worth into. It was a thick folder, but had notes and amendments made to it that looked too organized to be anyone but Arthur’s own doing. He could feel Eames watching him curiously, realizing the man had never really seen this side of the job, the calm before the storm.

“Good thing you’re the point man mate, I’d have been fired weeks ago if they had tried to put me in your place,” Eames said, motioning towards the papers Arthur was moving around.

“You would’ve been gone before the day was over, Eames,” Arthur corrected him, eyes focused on the rows he had begun creating, mapping the timeline from the company’s beginning to the present.  


Eames laughed a little, agreeing. “Mind that I don’t have a third of the patience you seem to somehow possess with technology, no, no I wouldn’t have survived.” He paused for a moment before saying, “Wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Arthur forced himself to keep moving as normally as he had been, nearly freezing at the words that held not only sincerity but also affection behind them. Eames wasn’t much of a person to express his feelings, same as Arthur, but when he did it was with his entire being. 

Arthur wasn’t sure if it was a spike of uncertainty or thrill that shot through him, but he hid it, replying, “You threatened to trade Cobb in for a bird once, though.”

“That was ONE time, and you know I didn’t mean that.”

“Cobb didn’t.”

“He just didn’t understand my humor back then, he’d probably laugh now.”

“Or tell you he’s trading you in for a small dog.”

“Unacceptable, you can only trade me in for an Irish wolfhound, I will not be replaced by a shaking rat sized Chihuahua.”

“But it fits you so well.”

Eames’ face at the remark was so incredulous that it took nearly every muscle in Arthur’s body to not laugh at him. 

“You asshole.”

“Well—”

“Yeah yeah I know, pot meet kettle,” Eames said, a smile spreading over his face. It was reminiscent of a similar conversation they’d had recently, and Eames swore he saw Arthur smile, thinking along the same lines as him. When he looked at the point man though, Arthur quickly turned his head, focusing back to the task at hand for a few minutes longer before collecting the papers back together, setting them on the desk across from his bed.

“I’m going to sleep for a while so no bothering me,” Arthur said, looking straight at the forger.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I mean it Eames, one noise and I will gag you with one of your shirts and tie you to the chair.”

Arthur saw Eames’ eyebrows rise a little, face resting into a familiar smirk before Arthur realized exactly what he’d said. Oh goddammit.

“Kinky.”

“Not the way I do it it’s not.” At that Eames’ face fell sharply, and he held his hands up in surrender.

“No noise, swear on my mother’s grave.”

Satisfied, Arthur pulled the gun he had managed to smuggle into the country (as well as the small arsenal hidden in a false bottom of his bag) from his waistband, checking it over before sliding it under the pillow; he never slept without it. He took off his jacket, tie, and shoes before glancing over his shoulder towards Eames. The man had a book in his hands, his gaze fixed on the words. 

Good, Arthur decided as he settled under the covers. At least one of them would be awake in case of trouble.


	9. ready or not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize until the end of time for not updating in so long. long story short my life got super crazy & busy, as well as major writer's block, & it was only this week that it finally went away & i was able to finally write. we'll be getting to the last few chapters now, & i've enjoyed every bit of it along the way :) thank you for all the kudos/comments, & i hope you enjoy this chapter!  
> title from the song by the fray

**3 Months Later**

Eames could feel his heart still racing as he ripped out the needle, a spot of blood pooling on his wrist, his body already pushing itself out of the chair. Yusuf had already pulled out Ariadne and Arthur’s own tubes, Dom moving around in a controlled chaos as he gathered their things. Nate Markus was still asleep, another dosage already making its way into his system that would give them enough time to grab everything and disappear before he would wake.

 _Didn’t work, it didn’t work_ , was all Eames could think, his body on autopilot as they grabbed the remaining items and bolted from the room. It was one of the many that were in the Markus manor, and they had managed to use it since Arthur had found that it was rarely used. The Markus family had been holding a celebration for a successful business year, inviting practically the whole town into the house to dance and drink until dawn. Yusuf had managed to slip a sleeping powder into the oldest son’s drink before he had told his parents he was going to bed. After that it had been a careful retrieving of him to the operation room, and then to go under with the PASIV and finish the mission.

It should have been easy. Choice words being “should have”.

When the team had gone up against minds that were trained, the killings had been quick, merciless. They were always adults because no one would dream of using the PASIV and its effects on a child.  


Which is probably why they had never been really prepared in the first place.

They had reached the end of the second level when Nate Markus began acting strange, as if trying to gain control over the dream. He turned on them, and the subconscious attacked.

Eames thought he could still feel the splash of warm blood on his neck from shooting some of the projections, a phantom wound echoing on his side as the car sped towards the private airport. Ariadne had managed to detonate the kick, sending them to the first level where the trained mind was breaking down the door. It was kicked in before Dom could set off the final switch that would return them to reality, and they were overrun in seconds.

Getting shot and stabbed multiple times was a feeling Eames would never get used to, and if he ever started to he would order one of his team mates to put him out of his misery for good. He could feel the hard wood floor beneath him as a projection shoved a small blade into his collarbone. He let out a frustrated noise before shoving it off, firing a couple rounds at it before pushing himself up. The forms were paying no mind to the switch that lay abandoned on the floor in the corner that would wake them up; they were too busy trying to kill everyone else as painfully as possible, “kill the intruders” the only order they were ever taught.

Arthur was still shooting, covered in patches of blood as he took down marks. He looked more under control than Eames felt, and it helped the forger move a little quicker towards the switch. If the point man was collected, so could Eames. 

The feeling didn’t last long, however.

Just as Eames finally reached the machine he heard his name being shouted, the voice suddenly sounding worried, scared. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it in the missions, but a spark of fear shot through him when he recognized its owner.

Arthur.

Arthur never shouted with emotion. Ever. It’s what made him one of the best point men in the business, his never ending ability to stay in control getting them out of more scrapes than Eames cared to remember. To hear such a foreign emotion coming from Arthur dashed any remaining hope that the mission could be salvaged.

He turned around enough to see a projection stabbing a knife down towards him, and he twisted so it sunk into his side instead of his back. It hurt like hell, made his vision blacken for a few moments before he could see again. He was still standing somehow and used it to his advantage, pulling out his last gun and firing as his free hand hit the switch so hard it broke in half. A series of clicks sounded off, muted under the yelling and screaming that bounced around the room. Eames could feel the ground shift as the floors began caving in, and he caught a glimpse of Arthur’s scared face before he was falling away from the fight.

He never wanted to see such a look on the younger man’s face again if he could help it.

*********

All the work. All the planning. All thrown away because they had never expected a kid to be trained for intruders like them. Arthur forced his hands to not shake, he never shook dammit, he had to look in control—

One of his hands clenched on the plane’s armrest, the other curled against his mouth as the fight played in his mind again, the carefully controlled shooting, seeing the forger trying to finish what Dom couldn’t, the projection approaching the older man from behind. Arthur had let go of control at that point, instinct tearing Eames’ name from his throat, the fear he felt plain on his face. It didn’t matter, Ariadne and Dom had gone silent long ago, the oldest Markus son gone from the room. He had seen the switch thrown, the knife sink into Eames’ side, could feel the floor starting to give. It was illogical to be scared, he knew he wasn’t dying in reality, but it was logical to trust his instinct, which believed that he was. The tug of war was still raging even as he woke, the sight of his team still alive spreading relief through him. Yusuf had already pulled the needle from his wrist, and the rest became a blur. His heart was still racing as the plane flew into the sky, the fear he’d finally let show trying to take over again. He wanted to go to each member and confirm for himself that they were really okay, to test his totem multiple times to ground himself in reality. In the end, it was Ariadne who came to him first, taking the clenched hand in her own. She sat beside him silently, only letting go of his hand when he released her. She turned to him, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder before she got up and let him be alone. Arthur didn’t know what they’d done to get such a caring person into their lives, but he was always grateful for Ariadne. She never tried to push, was content to just be there at times, and never pushed anyone away who sought comfort and words. 

He saw Dom and Yusuf pass by him, both of them giving him “We’ll be okay” looks before moving on. People dealt with situations differently, and it never bothered Arthur on how each member dealt with the sensation of being killed in the dream world. The thought of dreams made Arthur jolt slightly, knowledge that a fifteen year old kid had had military training to sic projections on intruders such as themselves making him feel sick. How could he have missed such a vital piece of information? 

That was thing though. He couldn’t have. Arthur was certain and meticulous about his job, triple checking all information before passing it to the team, making sure he had gotten every scrap of knowledge into his folders. It would’ve appeared. It should’ve appeared. This meant it had been done in secret, probably while the team had still been in training. If that was the case, then that had to mean someone told them about Synoco, or they had already known about its existence from the start.

Or there was more than one company who was using dreams to steal secrets.

The idea of there being multiple companies like Synoco felt like a punch in the gut. More people being trained like them, manipulating others to succeed so their friends and family stayed safe…it was ignorant of him to think that only one place was invested in the dream share business. It was like a hydra, growing more heads even if the first one had never been cut off. 

_Then kill the heart_ , Arthur thought suddenly. Destroy the source, and then cut off the remaining heads. It sounded so appealing the point man thought he might start smiling. He stopped himself from doing so, but couldn’t ignore the feeling of pleasure at the thought of destroying the business until nothing remained.

Arthur glanced up as Eames walked up and sat across from him, eyes focused on his intertwined fingers. He was still, body tense as if expecting an attack at any moment. Arthur could only imagine that the others were in similar modes as well.

“What happened, Arthur?” Eames asked quietly, a few hours later. The point man tore his gaze from the window, looking at his team mate. Eames was looking at him now, but there was no accusation or doubt in his eyes. Arthur felt his heart lurch slightly at the trust and belief in them instead, and straightened himself in his seat.

“I did not screw up.”

“I know you didn’t. You wouldn’t let something so vital slip past you. So what does this mean?”

Arthur thought about it for a few moments, collecting his thoughts so they were organized before speaking again. “Synoco was too early in the stages of training teams to use dream share, making it impossible for them to have advertised their use for the level of training that Markus had against us. So either his family had found out about Synoco through a rat, also unlikely because of how the place operates, or…”

Eames’ eyes widened, his voice shaking ever so slightly as he spoke. “Synoco’s not the only dream share business.”

Dread spread through Arthur again at the mention, but he nodded, feeling his teeth clench in anger and frustration.

“Fuck,” Eames whispered, running a hand through his hair. He looked down again, body rigid once more, and was silent for a few moments before he looked up again. “Do you think MacKaye knows by now?”

“The mission? I bet he knew the second we took off. He’s going to put us through the wringer.”

“Do you think he spread influence to others to start their own dream share?”

Arthur was about to respond no, MacKaye was too selfish and controlling to even think of doing so, but stopped, considering it for a moment. MacKaye was what he was, but he would want others to know the power, to reign it all from one location so he could spread it out while maintaining control.

“If he did, he’s in control. No way would he let such a powerful weapon fall outside his boundaries if he did.”

“Which means we just managed to land in the heart of the operation this entire time.”

Arthur agreed, saying, “He’s been raising them all at the same time, but because it’s spread out, chances of someone letting secrets loose in other locations is higher than in the main building.”

“Which explains Markus’ training.”

Arthur sat back in his seat, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “It explains everything.”

Eames grew quiet, the hum of the plane the only noise the either could hear. It was a silence that stretched on for so long that Arthur thought Eames had given in to sleep the last bit of the journey. 

However, the forger looked at him again and said, “You called my name. In the dream you shouted for me.”

He remembered that. Arthur had been hoping he hadn’t, but it was a futile hope. He felt his heart beat faster as those grey-blue eyes focused on his own.

“I did.”

“Why?”

Arthur shrugged, breaking the contact between them, looking out the window again.

“Arthur.” It was a gentle voice that spoke, almost assuring him it was fine to talk. Arthur resisted though, his stubborn side overriding the confession he had had prepared for months now.

“It was out of instinct Eames, people do it out of—” Arthur cut himself off from saying the word, _fear_ , mind scrambling for another in substitution. He found none, and let it drop, determined to stare out the window until he died if he must.

“I know. But god Arthur, the look on your face! I’ve lived with you for these past three months, and you’re one of the sneakiest, most private bastards I know but you’ve never looked like that, not even when—” Eames stopped himself too, mouth shutting tight as if he was stepping on a personal boundary he wasn’t allowed through.

“When what?”

“…The nightmares. I know you have them, because when you do you just sit up straight, you don’t yell or scramble awake like most people. You just sit there, taking deep breaths until you feel calm again and then stay awake until morning because you know if you go back to sleep they’ll just return.”

Arthur turned to look at Eames, his face betraying all the emotions he tried to hide: shock, fear, and, Eames did not doubt it, trust, but it turned neutral again. Eames continued speaking, his tone almost turning the words into a confession of how he'd been feeling for months.

“But I’ve never seen you look downright _scared_ , Arthur, not even in training when Ariadne had been grabbed, or Dom was missing, you were always in control, ready to take action to resolve it. And this time, even though we knew we’d be fine, you weren’t.”

Arthur kept his mouth shut, and he imagined he could feel heat radiating from his tattoo hiding under his sleeve, betraying him. Eames kept going, as if he took no notice of Arthur’s silence.  


“We’ve worked together almost a year now, Arthur, and god knows it was never an easy one. I’m not leaving, not the team or you, because I…well, I can’t. I care too much, about you…and the others.”

The pause in between was deliberate, they both knew it, and Arthur felt his neck heat up in response. He always knew the forger cared about him, but to hear the words be actually said made the difference almost astronomical.

Arthur swallowed, mind trying to think around the confession. “Eames—”

 _“Ladies and gentlemen we are arriving at the airport now. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts as we descend. Thank you.”_ The pilot’s voice interrupted the bubble the two had created, and Arthur was reminded of where they were, what they were about to face. Eames turned to look behind himself over the chair shoulder, and made a non committal noise.

“Later, Eames,” Arthur told him, nodding for him to listen to the captain. Eames just looked at the point man for a few moments before leaving, looking at him again over his shoulder before vanishing from sight.

Arthur felt the plane descend through the air, and steely resolve settled into him. He knew Eames by now, more than what was enough to tell him the truth. After MacKaye would deal with them, he would pull Eames aside and show him the tattoo he had been hiding for so long. 

It was time.


	10. degausser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the next chapter! a million apologies for taking forever, school began again, plus trying to figure out how to connect the pieces i wanted to use was terrible, but in the end, i figured it out :) if i got the translation wrong please let me know, i know next to nothing about french, but i hope you enjoy the update anyways. chapter title from the song by brand new

It was cold. Cold enough to turn fingertips a dark blue color, breaths appearing before her in a small cloud before disappearing again. 

The hall was dark on either side, a singular light swaying overhead as she chattered, hands rubbing up and down either arm in an attempt to keep any remaining warmth. Red bricks pressed against her back, and the ground was almost sand like, moving slightly under her as she struggled to her feet, a sob escaping from her throat.

 _Move, just have to move, if I don’t it’ll be worse, just move,_ she chanted in her head over and over, fingers tightening as she chose randomly, slipping into the darkness. As it happened, the light from before clicked off, another taking its place just above her head, the sequence repeating again as she made her way down the never ending hall of the labyrinth.

A connecting hallway appeared to her right, and as she moved past it, a light near the end of it flickered, showing something large and animal like flash through the brightness. It was moving parallel to her, but that didn’t stop the small, fear filled cry from sounding off the walls anyways. 

_Just a dream, just a dream, it has to be, it’s just a dream._ The thought wasn’t comforting like before, and she ran down another hall, hands clenching into fists as she rounded bend after bend, her want to escape growing with each dead end or next hall. That’s when she began crying, the tears running streaks down her face as she tried to keep her sobs quiet to hear for…anything. 

A growling sound came from behind her, and she wanted to freeze, to feel her eyes go wide as her muscles locked into place. But she didn’t. She kept moving, the flight response overtaking her. The growl grew louder, and she felt her legs hurting, lungs protesting, and steps faltering as exhaustion began taking hold of her.

The fear she had felt ballooned suddenly, and she screamed, terrified that this was actually real this time, that she had somehow been captured and was now facing off as entertainment for an unknown crowd. She was like a mouse in the maze.

But a predator was in here with her. 

The panic set in as heavy footfalls sounded towards her, and she curled into a ball, feeling hopeless and angered and afraid of letting it happen. She shook as she heard a roar, it was so close, it was yards, feet, inches—

She screams as teeth sunk into her torso, red rivers dripping to the floor as a haze set over her eyes. Her voice sounded far away but it kept going, echoing off the walls as she was torn apart and it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it _HURT—_

*********

Her eyes snapped open, and she struggled to breathe, hands immediately feeling her stomach. It was together, not a scratch or cut upon her clothes or skin. But it had felt so real…

She collapsed in the chair, a giddy laugh escaping her lips, her fingers laced over her eyes.

“Something funny, ma’am?” a voice asked, and her laughter stopped at once. She knew that voice. She didn’t know how but she did. It filled her core with fear, an instinctual one that urged to flee, to not trust the voice and the person it belonged to. The voice carried power in its tone, and she shook her head no, setting her arms back on the chair. 

The voice chuckled. “Good girl. It’s been over three now but you’ve finally learned some respect for authority. I believe last time you told me to ‘go to hell you useless degenerate of a rat’, which was quite rude, but it’s forgiven.”

She nodded slowly, intent on keeping the voice calm and proud.

“But my dear, you still have a lot more to learn. Or, they do at least.”

She knew who he was talking about, but her fear crowded the faces and names out of her mind. She felt her body shaking, betraying her.

Something shined in the man’s right hand as he started walking out of the shadows towards her, and when she saw the shape, panic rushed through her veins, commanding her to move, to get out of the room to safety. But she couldn’t move an inch as the gun swung into full view, the hollow barrel looking right into her eyes.

She considered a number of plans, _attack him, take him down with me, run, run in a zig zag, chances of survival are higher that way, take the gun, shoot him, use elbow and knees as weapons if I must,_ but discarded them in the end. He was too close, he could see all of the ideas on her face as if she was a book he’d read hundreds of times.

Her voice shot up an octave as she tried to speak, “Please…please I don’t…” Tears were spilling down her face again, but she didn’t care. “I don’t know you…just…just let—”

“You go? I’m sorry to say it doesn’t work like that in our business.” The man sounded like he actually was sincere about it, but she didn’t believe him, her body was screaming at her not to.

“Instead, it works like this.” The gun was suddenly pressed against her forehead, and she broke into sobs that almost sounded like screams. She begged, pleaded at the man, hands covering her face as if they could stop the bullet.

A small click sounded in her ears, and her breaths stopped. “DON’T—”

_Bang._

*********

Her eyes snapped awake.

She was in yet another chair. She was also gasping, crying, and her body shuddered with racking sobs. She’d been shot, _she’d felt the cold metal of the gun against her skin, she swore it,_ but it hadn’t been real. 

Again.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” she whispered, feeling more frightened in her life than she possibly could’ve imagined.

She tried to think, she was awake wasn’t she? Or were they asleep, a dream within a dream? She couldn’t tell, and pinching her arm did nothing. She was terrified of everything around her right now, but not knowing if she was awake this time or still asleep…that’s what chilled her to the bone.

“Ah, welcome madam.” 

The voice.

She wanted to scream. She hated that voice, every fiber of her hated it, but she curled into a ball instead, knees tucked against her chest. Why wouldn’t it end why was this happening why me why me _why me—_

“It seems as though you’ve held out longer than most people; by now they’d be begging to take a walk off the side of the roof. Very resilient, a good feature. You’d make an excellent soldier.”

She whipped her head up, eyes glaring into the shadows straight ahead despite the tear tracks on her face.

_“Va te faire enculer, connard!”_

“Well, that was quite rude,” the man said, walking out from the shadows again towards her. “Do you speak to all those higher than you like that? You also lost your obedience towards authority figures again, which of course, takes time to sink in, so that is not too pressing of an issue. 

“The real matter is this question: are you awake, or still dreaming?”

She kept glaring at him, but the words bounced around in her mind, and she truly, utterly, did not know. How could she? Either way, being here was still a nightmare in its own, one she knew she would have for months, years even, if she managed to survive this.

“Now, Mrs. Cobb,” the man smirked, merciless eyes gazing down on her. “Shall we find out?”

*********

No one greeted them at the airport, no one there to take them straight to the headquarters. They all stayed quiet, and went anyways, each lost in their own thoughts as cabs dropped them at the building.

No one stood at the reception desk; no one was in the lobby, no security guards.

Nothing.

The eerie quietness of the place made the hairs on Arthur’s neck stand up, and he pocketed one of his smaller guns at his lower back. They left their things in a meeting room before going up the elevator, each person tense and ready for whatever punishment MacKaye was ready to roll out on them. It felt as if the weight of a house sat on their shoulders, but no one said a word.

They reached the floor, the _ding_ of the elevator still sounding as they walked down the empty corridor. Arthur felt unease slip under his skin, feeling like he should be as far from the place as he physically could be instead of in the heart of it.

“Something’s wrong,” Ariadne said, voice cracking through the silence. “Not even at night is it like this. There are always people here.”

“At least no one will hear me shouting obscenities at the asshole,” Eames said, trying to ease his team mates. It didn’t really work, but they appreciated his attempt none the less.

The door to their operation room was slightly ajar, and Dom pushed it open silently, waiting for the military man to notice them. He was hunched over a board that flickered with lights and numbers, and glanced behind when he saw the room brighten a little. 

The smile he gave them made Yusuf’s grip in Ariadne’s hand grow even tighter.

“Ah, you’ve returned. Three months of work, and this is the result. Nothing.”

“The boy—” Dom started.

“I heard.” MacKaye’s voice was clipped, tone holding no room for interruption. “How did you not know.”

His gaze went straight to Arthur, who bristled, tensing as if ready to physically attack. Dom stepped in front, answering, “There was no trace. There was no way we could’ve known—”

“Interesting. I send the best on the field and even they are not a match for a fifteen year old boy’s subconscious?”

Dom said nothing this time, letting his hatred filled eyes bore into MacKaye’s. The latter knew how much they despised him; he just never cared because to him, they were not a threat.

“In light of your failures, I’m glad you came here tonight. You will see what happens when you bring back failure instead of success.” He motioned for them to come inside, and they did, Eames closing the door back to its original position before coming to stand by Arthur, hands behind his back. 

The glass MacKaye turned to was completely black, but Arthur recognized it. It was the same glass that the man stared out of when they were under the control of the PASIV, and a sinking feeling dropped into his stomach.

“I’m not a man of physical fights anymore. Nor do I physically punish those who work for me; recovery takes too long, and you’re needed at any second. Therefore, I’ve found a much better way for punishment, as well as for motivation.” MacKaye turned to look straight at them, his gaze landing on Dom’s for a few moments longer than the others before turning back.

“Lights.”

The glass revealed the room, but when he fully saw it, Arthur nearly let out a shout that would’ve woken the dead. A hand on his chest held him back, reminding him of where he was. Eames’ hand. Instead, Arthur took deep breaths, feeling anger coursing through his veins at the sight. Ariadne’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide and fearful like Yusuf’s. Dom looked like someone had taken his world and broken it right in front of him.

Mal was lying in one of the chairs, head lolled to the side as she slept.

A PASIV was hooked to her elbow.

In an instant, Arthur knew exactly what they were doing to her, and nausea spread throughout him.

Dream torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Va te faire enculer, connard! = Go fuck yourself, bastard!


	11. the end of all things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> massive thanks to you all, you make writing this fic even more enjoyable than before :) after this chapter there will be the last one & an epilogue, so hurray! we're almost there. thank you all again!  
> chapter title from the song from the lord of the rings soundtrack

Arthur didn’t know he could shake with rage and yet remain still. He swore he saw red glimpsing at the edges of his vision, blood practically boiling in his veins. He could feel his face slipping into anger, the mask he had held so carefully gone. All he could think was _I’m going to kill him I’m going to kill him I’m going to kill him_ until the sentence ran together.

Ariadne still had her hand to her mouth, her expression filled with fear and sadness. She held back the scream she wanted to yell at MacKaye, afraid she would cause more damage than had already been done. Yusuf and Eames had somehow remained in control, only the slightest anger hinting in their eyes. But Dom wasn’t looking at his wife anymore. His head was bent towards the floor, hiding his face. He was rigid, only moving to straighten up after a few moments.

“Apologies,” he said, voice flat and emotionless. “We won’t fail again, sir.”

MacKaye nodded, a small triumphant gleam in his eyes. 

Arthur wanted nothing more than to rip them out where he stood. 

The general tapped a button on the table next to him, saying, “We’re done here.” A couple men in lab coats began unhooking Mal from the PASIV, and trying to rouse her from her seemingly endless dreams.

She woke slowly, looking confused at first. Once she registered where she was her eyes flew open, a breathless sob tearing out of her throat. Dom immediately ran to the connecting door, reaching her as she began to look around. The sight of him stopped her panic, and instead fear set in. She grabbed him into a crushing hug, burying her face into the crook of his neck. Dom held her, rubbing one hand on her back, the other resting on her shoulder. The team couldn’t hear what she was whispering to Dom, but from the sudden tenseness of his body, it was worse than they had thought.

“I do not take failures lightly. Remember this. If you do so again I will have everyone in the chairs.” MacKaye’s voice had grown serious, and he turned to the remaining members, gaze sharp. “On leave for a week. That should get you back together in time for your next client. Until then…” He walked away, humming slightly to himself as he opened the door to slip through, shutting it loudly behind him.

Mal’s small, quieting sobs was the only noise for a few minutes before Eames said, “There won’t be a next client. I’m done.”

Yusuf and Ariadne turned towards him, the words echoing in their minds.

“He’ll go after your family,” Ariadne started, voice wavering.

“I hid them well. MacKaye couldn’t find them even if he lived forever to try. I won’t have them in those—” His expression turned into one of disgust, a rarely seen emotion on the forger’s face “—chairs, I’ll disappear first before I do.”

Yusuf looked at him for a moment, and then agreed, saying, “Cal knows how to disappear, and so do I. I’m out too.” 

Arthur watched the exchange silently, mind working into overdrive on how to tear the company down while still being able to walk away with his team. His parents were long gone, and he had no family outside of them so it would be easy to get away. But how…

“I can’t uproot my mom, she has a place, a job, friends…what if they go after her?” Ariadne took a few deep breaths, easing her panicked mind. “And Cobb has family too…we can’t leave. And if we fail again next time it’ll be worse than this. I want to leave with you guys, I do, but I can’t let my mom suffer either.”

“She won’t have to.”

Arthur’s statement made the three look at the point man, who looked as serious as he could possibly be.

“What do you mean?” Ariadne asked, crossing her arms.

Running a hand over his face, Arthur turned to Yusuf, asking, “The serum we used on the mission. How far down can you go using it?”

“Forever, if you want, but the further down you go the less stable the environment gets,” the chemist responded.

“And if you die using it?”

Silence, then, “Arthur what are you planning?” It was Eames’ voice, quiet but steady.

“Put MacKaye through the same thing, take him down three levels, and then get rid of him for good.” Arthur said, his anger finally starting to fade.

“He could never wake up,” Yusuf replied, comprehension dawning after a few moments. “And no one will know we were involved…we could walk away.” Arthur nodded, letting out a deep breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“It’s no less than he deserves,” Ariadne spat, looking over to see Dom and Mal walking towards their room.

“We’ll escape and be free from this goddamn nightmare,” Eames stated. Yusuf made his way over to Dom and Mal, quietly asking the latter how she was feeling. Arthur could hear her whispered reply of “I know I’m in reality this time”, and the conviction to follow through with the plan was even harder than before. Yusuf quickly told Dom about everything the group had said, and his expression grew from surprise to a satisfied one. He was in as well.

“When should we do this?” Ariadne asked, holding her head up higher.

“Tonight. We need to get to him while his guard’s down. He’ll be more likely to be careless, forgetting to set up any alarms in his home because of it. It’s the only window we have.” The team didn’t ask how Arthur knew about such things; they would’ve been more surprised if he hadn’t.

“Arthur,” Mal said, her eyes shining in the dark room. “Give him tenfold.”

*********

They each separated after that, deciding to leave the building intact so as not to arouse suspicion. It was hard though; Eames and Ariadne really looked like they wanted to level the place from top to bottom.

Each went home, grabbing their things and packing quickly as the hours passed. They only took what was necessary, leaving the rest in boxes next to the trash cans or donation containers near them; they would need to be ready to move the second their mission was over.

Arthur regarded his now bare apartment. He had barely brought anything in, the furniture and bed already provided by the place, but somehow it still felt emptier than before. He knew the others had moved in with the same amount, and imagined them all looking at the living space they’d occupied for over a year now. As much as they had hated Synoco, hated having to be near it, it was still sort of home. Here they could escape their everyday lives, pretend they lived somewhere else, in jobs they had actually wanted, with their loved ones.

At the thought, Arthur’s brow furrowed, feeling unease in his chest. He still hadn’t told Eames the truth, but doing it before hand would be reckless, for both of them. Afterwards then. Decision made, the man locked the door behind him, sliding it and a note to the landlord under the last door. The latter had always been nice to the tenants, Arthur included, so the point man made sure than the last month’s rent was included in the note, alleviating some trouble from the old landlord’s mind.

Arthur met Ariadne and Yusuf at the corner, each carrying two bags. Anticipation thrummed under Arthur’s skin, ready to see the plan through and get the hell out of here. As the other two joined them, they hid their belongings in an unused room inside Synoco, Arthur swearing the room number to memory as they made their way outside.

Eames stopped him for a moment, letting the others walk ahead.

“Are you sure about this Arthur?” he asked him quietly, looking him right in the eyes.

The point man didn’t break eye contact as he nodded, more sure than anything that this was the right choice.

“We’ll be ending someone’s life, not changing it.”

“He doesn’t deserve his life,” Arthur replied. “Especially not after Mal.”

Eames was quiet for a few moments before nodding, a hand landing on Arthur’s shoulder before he made his way up to the group. Yusuf held the PASIV and chemicals in one hand, the other holding onto Ariadne’s tightly. They all stood on the corner, looking at a house across from them. 

MacKaye’s house.

Arthur was the first to move towards it, signaling the others to stop so he could check the alarms he knew were there. As he suspected, MacKaye had been too blinded by his triumph to remember to set them. 

Eames quickly picked the lock—“Personal best at last”—wiping it clean of fingerprints before they made their way inside, all quiet as they listened for the sound of anything to registering to their presence.

Nothing.

Ariadne’s usually flowing hair was tied into a tight bun to prevent hairs from falling out, and they all avoided touching anything as much as possible, determined to succeed in their mission.  
MacKaye’s room was the last on the right, and the carpet quieted any footsteps as they looked in through the cracked door. The man was asleep, lying right on his back.

“No eye movement. He’s in the deep sleep stage; it’ll take an explosion to wake him now,” Yusuf whispered to Arthur, who nodded. They quietly began to set up next to the general’s bed, all attaching the tubes to them. Yusuf quickly inserted the needle into MacKaye’s free arm, the serum flowing into his veins immediately.

“Ready you four?” Yusuf asked, and Arthur felt his gaze land on Eames, who was looking right back at him. 

“Yes.”


	12. an end, once and for all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the third to last chapter everyone! probably one of my longest ones written to date, but it turned out much better than i was expecting :) after this there will be one last chapter, then an epilogue, and then we will be done! thank you for all the kudos/comments, you've been absolutely wonderful and thank you so much for reading this fic. chapter title from the song by clint mansell

Descending into MacKaye’s conscious filled the group with a heightened anxiety. MacKaye was trained for something like this to happen, probably even more than Markus had been. But they had to be ready for it anyways; this was where it either ended for good or not.

Upon waking into the first level, Arthur immediately made his way over to a car on the curb, opening the door with ease thanks to Ariadne. She would be with Dom, setting up the room and then making contact with Eames, who would slip into the disguise of the old man who had killed them slowly with poisonous gas. Researching him had been far too easy; the man had no idea how much of a trail he had left Arthur to explore and use for their mission. 

Arthur drove quickly through the streets, picking up Yusuf along the way. They would need him to administer the doses like before, to ensure that MacKaye didn’t overdose before the final level. 

“How many levels can we go down with it?” Arthur asked again.

“Three. Fourth level could send you into limbo, but it’s entirely guesswork from there.”

“How do you know?”

“I’d already developed the serum, or something similar to it, far from the version we have now, by the time Synoco grabbed me. They made me use it on someone in the company, and when they woke up…he didn’t. They said he had gotten shot two levels in, and he should’ve woken up, but they used too much to go down to the second dream, and I wasn’t there to give them the exact measurements. He’s hasn't woken up since, practically a vegetable forever.”

Arthur nodded sharply, turning into the hotel lot where they would be meeting the others. The tile shone underneath them as they met up with Ariadne and Dom, Eames already in disguise and with MacKaye according to the plan they'd laid out.

They made their way up to the room, Arthur’s hand on the butt of his gun the entire way. He was so tense he was amazed his muscles hadn't locked up. He wondered how Eames was holding up, his stomach tightening at the thought of the man alone with the enemy. Just as Ariadne pushed open the door, two men came around the bend, badges gleaming in the lighting.

Security.

“Go,” Arthur said, pushing the other two in before the men could notice. He quickly closed the door, walking away from it as inconspicuously as possible. He had to lead them away (probably kill them as well) before Eames got back with MacKaye, which would only be moments from now. He could feel the men’s eyes burning into his back, and he slid around the corner, hiding until the right moment.  


He grabbed the first man by the arm, twisting it as he threw him into the wall beside him, hard enough to knock him out. The second guard had started reaching for his gun, but was cut off when Arthur threw a punch that connected with his jaw. The point man managed to get in a few more hits before the guard tackled him into the wall, making Arthur’s vision waver from the pain as spots danced in his eyes.

He ignored it as best as he could, jabbing a few punches to the ribs before managing to swing his elbow and connect with the man’s temple. The guard stumbled, and gave Arthur the opportunity he needed. Quickly, he grabbed the man’s head and wretched it to the side, the _crack_ making him feel slightly sick. He hated the feeling, but knew it would be much worse in comparison if he was lenient with projections.

He managed to open a spare unused room and dragged the two inside before locking the door behind him. It wouldn’t do them any good if they were interrupted during the mission. Arthur rubbed the back of his head, still feeling the pain ebb as he made his way back to the room. It would probably be in his best interest to avoid any more hits there from here on lest he actually get a concussion, even if they were only in a dream.

Since MacKaye knew their faces too well to not be suspicious, they had to hide in the connecting room until Eames drugged MacKaye. Arthur could hear them both talking through the door, ready to burst in should things go wrong. Thankfully, Eames was quick and managed to slip the drug into the drink MacKaye was holding, the latter dropping into a sleep within minutes. A few taps to the door and the others were in the room as well. Arthur began setting up the PASIV with Yusuf as the disguise fell away from Eames, Ariadne and Dom connecting the tubes to themselves. No one said anything, each too busy in their own head thinking of what was to come next. Eames glanced at Arthur before picking up his own needle, noting that the younger man had his jaw clenched a little, hiding pain from the others. Eames wanted to stop and ask him what happened, but knew their time was borrowed; not a second could be wasted. 

“Level two,” Yusuf stated as he pressed the center of the PASIV, the drug flowing into their veins. Arthur cast one last look at Eames before the dark covered his eyes.

*********

The second level was just as easy as the first, but Arthur knew their luck couldn’t stay like this for long. It was easy, just too easy to make their way to the last level, to cast MacKaye into limbo forever.

Arthur could feel it, deep in his core, that something wasn't right when they landed. Like the world was slightly off kilter, or that the buildings seemed to look at them as they made their way down the streets.

He hated being right sometimes.

MacKaye managed to spot them before they could go into cover, and suddenly they were surrounded by people. Ariadne had prepared for this by letting only a few civilians be around at the time, but that didn’t stop the military man from bringing in more.

For every person Arthur knocked out or shot, another took their place. He could feel the blood from the projections splatter against his face and body, but ignored it in favor of letting all the rage and violence he had felt towards MacKaye loose. The man was even smirking at them, standing away from the battle, as if he knew this would be over quickly.

The look only spurred the point man’s anger, and he saw Dom slip through the crowd with ease. He had been hidden behind a pillar before, out of MacKaye’s sight. Arthur could see the hate in Dom’s eyes as he moved past him, aiming straight for the military man. He crouched low, pulling out a gun from behind him as he got closer. Dom then disappeared in the crowd, making Arthur turn his attention back to the fighting. If they died on this level, there was no waking up from it.

He saw Ariadne swiftly stabbing and kicking away opponents, Yusuf right behind her shooting and throwing punches. They were both wounded, but not enough to be worrying. Eames was covered in blood, but seemed almost in his element as he took out projections with ease. 

“Dom—better— _shit_ —kill him—quickly,” Eames said between punches, avoiding a swipe to the head. “Do it myself—if I—must— _you fucker—_ ”

Arthur could only nod in agreement, his gaze never wavering from the opponent in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dom fighting MacKaye, already marked with a black eye and bloody nose. They were hidden as a protection came for Arthur, and he threw an elbow into its windpipe before it could lay a hand on him. The fight continued for a few more minutes before there was a single gunshot the pierced through the crowd. Everyone stopped as they turned, and saw Dom kneeling over MacKaye, who lay on the ground with a bullet right between the eyes, the barrel of the gun still pressed to his forehead as Dom breathed heavily while a fist was wrapped in the man's shirt. His hair was falling in his face, blood marking him, but he didn't seem to notice as he let go of the dead man. Dom released a long breath, looking over to his team. 

“We’re done here.”

The four stood there for a moment, all thinking _we’re done we’re free from it it’s over_ until suddenly the ground began to shake, nearly throwing them off their feet. Building around them began to crumble, crashing on top of cars and panicking people, their screams echoing around them.

“Yusuf what’s happening?” Ariadne yelled over the noise.

“His mind is falling apart from being sent to limbo; we need to get out of here, completely!” The chemist replied, grabbing her arm as the earth shook once again. “This will be our kick to the second level, but then we need to get to the other places!”

Arthur saw Dom fall through the street as the words were spoken, felt a hand grab his forearm as they fell into the earth as well, darkness rushing around him.

He woke up in the small room, the house around them shaking. The fight from before was starting to finally affect him, sending his thoughts into a whirlwind. What level was this, second, first? The others were up as well, and Arthur hauled Eames to his feet, all of them running to avoid being crushed under the weight of the old house. A large flame burst up in front of them, and Arthur immediately shoved Eames down without a second thought, keeping them both low to avoid anymore fire. They reached the back door, which was hanging off its hinges from the shaking, and heard Yusuf yell, “The water, now!” as they burst through it. MacKaye’s old home had been built near the edge of a small cliff, a pond right below it. Their kick.

Arthur could feel a heavy weight descending in his chest, fear of the jump mixing in with it. Pushing through it, he didn’t hesitate at the edge, letting gravity take over for him. The others followed behind him, and they hit the cold water hard enough to feel like a slap.

Awake again.

 _What level what level_ was the only thing running through Arthur’s mind as they once again woke. Once again hauling up Eames and the others to run. The ground shook even harder this time, and a gap split between them, wide enough to separate Arthur and Eames from the others.

“Go, just go! Just get close to the kick!” Dom shouted over the shaking, and the two men nodded, turning around to go the other way. Arthur nearly lost his balance on the steps, the ground splitting suddenly below him before he could avoid it. The rail and Eames’ hand were the only thing keeping him up at this point, and he could feel helplessness flow through him as they finally reached the streets.

It was hell on earth.

*********

Everything was going so horribly wrong and Arthur still didn’t know if they were still in yet another dream level or about to wake or if they were close enough to the kick to make it out and where the fuck was his token he had just had it now it’s gone it’s missing _oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck—_

He was still with Eames as well, who was bleeding from a cut on his temple, their clothes streaked with grime and asphalt. Dom, Ariadne, and Yusuf were still missing from their sight, most likely killed (or awake Arthur desperately hoped)… _goddammit all goddammit all to hell,_ he thought.

“Eames,” he breathed, the weight of the gun heavy in his hand. “We need to get—” Another explosion sounded off, so close to them that Arthur nearly dropped to his knees to cover his ears, the ringing so loud it took over any thoughts in his mind. He felt Eames grab ahold of his forearm and pull him upright again, letting him lean against the man for support. 

“We’ll find them, alive, and then we’re getting the hell out of here!” Arthur heard Eames say to him, and the pointman just nodded. They took off, staying as close to the other as much as possible. A bullet shrieked loudly as it past just behind them, and Arthur felt his heart lurch when he saw that it was high enough to hit Eames in the head. He was not going to lose the forger to this place, dream or reality. He wouldn’t let anything take him. 

It hit Arthur like a weight. A sudden realization that had been occurring for some time now, pushed deep into his mind so he wouldn’t confront it, growing stronger and stronger in confirmation so that Arthur couldn’t dismiss it.

He cared about Eames. More than in the friendship/rivalry they had developed over the past year. He could feel it in the way that there was no possible way to doubt it.

Arthur was in love with Eames.

 _Not now not now not when we’re inches from dying every second,_ Arthur thought as they ducked into a building, the glass in the doors cracked or broken. He was almost through when he felt a sharp pain on his side, and hissed. The door slammed shut, muffling the noise of the dying dream as Arthur stumbled to a wall hidden from the entrance, sliding down it as he gripped at his side. 

“Of course of fucking course—” he growled, and felt someone drop to his side, a warm hand over his.

“Arthur!” Eames sounded…more panicked than usual. He must’ve forgotten the level like Arthur had, token lost somewhere in the battle. What terrible timing.

“Still here.” Arthur could feel the blood leaking through his fingers quickly, and coughed before settling back against the tile. He felt Eames let go of his hand for a moment before returning, moving his own hand aside to push a bunched up cloth against the wound, the pressure sending stars into Arthur’s vision. He could feel himself losing too much, and knew he had a few minutes before he…

“Come on Arthur you idiot, you can’t leave me to find everyone else on my own now,” Eames admonished, his other hand going behind Arthur’s back to make him sit up. “No closing your eyes either, I know we’re tired but I don’t think sleeping on tile is good for your health.”

Arthur chuckled before coughing again, this time more aggressive than last. The wound hurt even more, causing the point man to double over in pain. Eames held him up, the hand on his back now looped around his shoulders.

It was around then that Arthur noticed that his left sleeve was torn in places, allowing the words that Eames had said all that time ago peek through. Eames didn’t seem to notice, too busy focusing on keeping Arthur alive ( _he had to stay alive, the world needs an Arthur in it, specifically this one_ Eames thought) over the words he had been at one time determined on seeing. 

_Ah fuck it,_ Arthur decided. _No time like the present._

“Eames,” Arthur said, and he could feel the forger’s eyes on him and him alone. “You were right.”

“I’m right about a lot of things darling but on this you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Eames—”

“There’s the mission from March, also the one from April, May too—”

“Eames—”

“—a lot of stuff so that means when I say you’ll be fine, I’ll be right _again—_ ”

“ _Eames._ You were right” was all Arthur said before grabbing the sleeve and forcing it up with a shaking hand, leaving bloody streaks along his arm. Eames’ eyes snapped to it, and didn’t seem to understand for a moment what in the hell Arthur was talking about until he saw them. The words he had first said to Arthur the moment he had met him.

_a pleasure to meet you, darling_

Eames froze. He felt like the air had rushed out of his lungs in that moment and all he could see were those six words. Arthur said nothing, letting the man process his thoughts. He could feel the strength leaving him though, and that’s when he became scared, though he didn’t know why.

“You knew.” Eames said, his tone neutral.

“I wanted to know you more before I told you,” Arthur admitted, feeling a streak of shame before it vanished.

“And you decide now of all times to tell me?! You bastard, you absolute bloody idiot…” Eames muttered, arm tightening around Arthur’s shoulders.

“Eames…”

“A whole year I’ve been wondering a _whole bloody year Arthur_ and you kept this in the dark like it was nothing—”

“—Eames—”

“—while I’m wondering if I’ve met you and can finally stop searching because you’re a goddamn bastard but you’re one of the good ones and there’s no one else who drives me up the walls but makes me care at the same time like you do and it was _infuriating_ because I didn’t know and you _did—”_

“Oh for god’s sakes!” Arthur didn’t know what came over him in the moment, but before he knew it he grabbed onto the front of Eames' jacket and kissed him. 

You know those stories where people say the world stops or time seemed to freeze when they finally, _finally_ got to admit everything they’d been holding in? 

That is complete and utter bullshit. 

The kiss barely lasted a moment before the building shook from an explosion, forcing the two apart. Debris came raining down, and Eames covered Arthur from the majority of it, feeling broken concrete hit his back. He could still feel the pressure of Arthur’s lips on his, and the second he knew they were going to be safe there was going to be a lot of words and maybe more of the former. But for now, Eames had to make sure Arthur didn’t die in this world. 

He looked down to see Arthur’s eyes had closed, and felt his heart drop to his stomach. 

“Arthur hey!” He smacked the point man’s face hard enough that it should’ve woke him up, but the man did nothing, his head just lolling to the side as the building continued to shake. “Arthur goddammit you can’t just pull a stunt like that then go to sleep! I haven’t even gotten to tell you you were right, come on, you have to stay awake to hear that yeah?” Eames could feel his fists gripping onto Arthur’s jacket so tightly they were turning white, but didn’t dare let go. He hurriedly searched for a pulse, relief spreading through him when he found it, weak but still there. 

He was about to pick him up to move him out of the lobby when he heard it, soft at first but growing loudly in volume . Eames never thought he’d be ever so happy to hear the music, that repetitive, annoying sound that signaled the kick, thanking every god he knew that this wasn’t real life, that they were about to wake, that Arthur wasn’t going to die in front of him permanently. 

He felt the floor start to crack, and he took one last look at the words that were still visible on Arthur’s arms, standing out in the exact same writing that he possessed. 

“I’m going to sit you down and we will not move until we’ve talked everything out, even if it takes hours,” Eames swore, pressing his mouth against Arthur’s hair. “That’s a promise.” 

The ground below them gave out, and Eames was falling into darkness before waking, the white of the ceiling bright against his eyes. Blinking quickly, he looked around, spotting Arthur in the chair next to him, just starting to wake up. Yusuf (bless him) was helping Ariadne up out of her chair, Dom sitting up with his head in his hands, resting for a moment. 

They were alive, everyone intact, and in the real world. 

_Thank god,_ Eames thought, letting his head fall back against the wall he was sitting against. 

_Thank god._


	13. hoppípolla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, the last chapter before the epilogue! i blame school, work, and being busy with life for the late update, but by next week the story should be completed :) thank you all again for the kudos/comments, you're all wonderful people and thank you for reading this fic  
> chapter title from the song by sigur rós

Eames relaxed for a moment, letting the feeling of relief wash through him. It was done. They could finally leave and be free.

Of course, they had considered the idea of the police getting involved, but Dom’s intermission of the business not wanting to get authorities mixed up with something that was by all means illegal dismissed it away. And MacKaye’s health had been waning of recent, so for him to suddenly suffer a “stroke” and fall into a coma wouldn’t be the biggest surprise to anyone. They’d be on guard, but they were more than confident that no one would come after them in the end.

Ariadne quickly checked in with everyone to see how they were, a gleam of happiness in her eyes that Eames hadn’t seen in a long, long time. She felt no regret towards her actions; MacKaye had never given her a reason to have any. After telling her he was alright, she stepped to Yusuf’s side, helping him pack up the PASIV quickly but carefully.

It was then that Eames looked over at Arthur, who was resting his forehead against a fist, elbow resting on one bent knee. The surge of affection and want that filled Eames every time he looked at the man returned, feeling stronger than before. Although he knew how Arthur felt, truly this time, they still needed to talk. But not here, not now.

Quietly, the group headed out of the home, making sure anything they had touched was clean from prints before exiting. Yusuf pulled out a small contraption from his pocket and aimed it towards the lock, hearing it click into place as he put it away, catching up with the others.

There was only silence as they made their journey back to Synoco, each lost in their own thoughts. Ariadne held onto Yusuf’s hand, giving it a small squeeze every now and then like she couldn’t believe she wasn’t in a dream, that reality was around them. 

Eames knew exactly how she felt. 

Their footsteps echoed off the walls inside the building, and Ariadne gave the others the most choking hug Eames had ever experienced, saying, “Get to the safe houses. We’ll contact you when it’s all clear” before grabbing her things, Yusuf shaking the three men’s hands before nodding in agreement as they took off into the night.

“Stay low, and keep them safe,” Dom told the two as he picked up his belongings. “We’re almost there.”

They nodded, a silent goodbye trailing the leader as he walked out, the door closing soundlessly behind him.

And then there were two.

Eames’ felt his heart begin to beat faster, though why he didn’t really understand. Arthur wasn’t looking at him, still lost in thought, and Eames knew he was ten seconds from having some kind of breaking point with his nerves so he asked, “You meant it all, didn’t you?” His throat felt dry, a nervous feeling running in his veins.

Arthur didn’t answer him at first, and Eames wouldn’t have known if he’d heard him at all if it wasn’t for the point man’s slight head turn towards him. He stopped from saying anything else, waiting for the man to speak for once instead goddammit.

Silence filled around them for a few more moments before Arthur said, “I did”, voice soft enough to not even echo in the room.

Eames felt a huge breath rush out of him, the nervous emotion going with it. 

“Why then?”

“…Because you didn’t know.”

"I didn't know? I thought that was quite obvious."

“No, I mean you didn’t know if we were about to call into limbo or not. I didn’t either. So if we had been and that was all the time we had left…then you should’ve known.”

“Should’ve known sooner,” Eames snipped, sounding bitter. It was a rare emotion he showed, and not one he wanted to use on those he liked. He felt immediate guilt, saying, “I didn’t mean that, I know why you didn’t tell me, I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“So, since we’re awake instead, what do you want to do about it?”

Arthur didn’t reply, and frankly Eames didn’t know if he could either. They’d danced around this for so long that moving forward seemed like an impossible decision. Neither of them was good at emotions, expressing them really, and was more likely to quash any signs of showing one more than ever, thanks to Synoco. 

They are each other’s weak points now, and they know it.

“It started about seven months ago.”

Eames’ head snapped up to look at Arthur, who _still_ wasn’t looking at him.

“What?”

“The…feelings, they started about seven months ago.”

Eames didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t, just waited for Arthur to talk this time.

“I ignored them, obviously, since you’re you—”

“Arthur.”

“—let me finish. You were you and yeah I know the outcome now but back then I didn’t. You pissed me off and bothered me to no end and god the amount of innuendos you can think of should be put a stop to by law—”

Eames huffed a silent laugh at that, but didn’t try to interrupt Arthur now; the man was about to go on a rant, Eames could feel it. And he was intent on letting every thought come out into the open.

“—not to mention you don’t understand the meaning of personal space and you have no idea how much you drive me up the wall with your stubbornness but _Eames_ …you care, you fucking _care_ , for everyone, even the people you don’t work with or know, you know what to say, when to say it, you make me laugh even when I want to punch you, and as much as I hate to admit it, you make me feel…safe…” Arthur’s voice died away, a nervous undercurrent evident in the last word, afraid of Eames’ reaction, what the forger would say in return to the burst of admitted emotion. Eames felt heavy with them, emotions so tangled together that he didn’t know what to express or say.

Instead, he cupped the back of Arthur’s head, who tensed slightly. Ignoring it, he pulled the man tightly to him, chin resting on top of Arthur’s head. Arthur must’ve been surprised by his reaction, or else he probably wouldn’t have let it happen.

“Eames what are you doing?” Arthur’s muffled voice hummed through his skin.

“It…seemed like the right thing to do,” he replied, and Arthur went silent, relaxing under Eames’ touch. They stood like that for a while before Eames finally said, “You obviously know how I feel.”

“I think everyone on the team does Eames.”

A small shiver ran down the man’s spine from the way Arthur said his name, sounding put off and caring and teasing all at once. 

“Then did you know that my own feelings started the second I saw you?”

“Really?”

“Have you seen yourself love? How could anyone not?”

Arthur scoffed at him, but made no sign that he was moving from his position any time soon. Eames took this as a good sign and continued.

“Yes you with your own stubborn sense of ways and never ending judgments on my clothes. The first to ever resist my charms—”

“Wasn’t that hard really.”

“— _and_ who wasn’t afraid to butt heads with me. It was a nice change from life, and the second you spoke to me in reality I knew I wouldn’t want anyone else besides you in my life.”

Arthur could feel his heart begin to beat faster at the words, and couldn’t deny that he felt the same.

“You know what this means yeah?”

Arthur shifted back enough to see the forger’s face, an eyebrow raised in question.

“You _like_ me—”

“Oh my god—” Arthur rolled his eyes in amusement and annoyance; of course Eames would do this in such a serious moment.

“—you have _feelings_ for me—”

“Do they involve murder, because then yes I do.”

“—and you’re my so-whoa!” Arthur had suddenly grabbed Eames’ tie, yanking him down so they were on eye level.

“You talk entirely too much,” Arthur deadpanned, a smile in his eyes. Eames grinned in response, a hand coming up to cover the one holding his tie.

“It’s a character flaw, and you love it.”

“How about instead you shut up and kiss me in reality for once?”

“That I can definitely do.”


	14. finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's done! thank you so much for reading this fic, it's been a pleasure to write and read your comments, so i present to you the epilogue! hope you enjoy it :) chapter title from pride & prejudice

**6 Months Later**

Eames woke in the middle of the night, lying on his back in the dark room. He knew he hadn’t woken from any kind of nightmare (though they did still happen occasionally), but as if he just snapped to from unconsciousness. Remaining as still as he could, he looked over to his left at Arthur, who was fast asleep, his shirtless back turned towards him. The man needed to catch up on all the rest he could get, and Eames was not about to ruin that. Besides, a sleep deprived Arthur was an Arthur who would snap at others easily and wear his tiredness on his shoulders, not to mention the murderous glares he could send. 

Rubbing a hand across his face, Eames’ thoughts drifted back to Synoco, as they often did. The team had decided to lie low in the country; at least until it was confirmed that MacKaye had been discovered in a “coma” and rushed to the hospital. Arthur reported mass resignations flooding into the system a few days after, the underground company shutting down its operation in the building. Their own letters hide easily among the rest, no one questioning them in the slightest. 

Yusuf kept hold of the PASIV; probably the only thing the team had left to connect them to Synoco. They knew there would be nothing left inside to show the work that had been going on for over a year, chemicals taken, surfaces wiped clean, and a silent threat loomed over everyone that if they tried to speak out, tell authorities what had been happening, they would be found. It was enough that nothing came across the radar, and Arthur suspected it never would.

They moved back to the US, all deciding to stay on the coast upon arrival. Ariadne’s actual college was in New York, and she returned to it, telling the professors she was more than happy to be back. Dom and Mal went down to Boston, staying with her brother until things were sorted out so they could live on their own again. During a visit, Mal told Eames that her nightmares were fading, a sense of relief almost tangible in the air. Eames hugged her, saying nothing. She understood all the same.

For Eames though, the nightmares would last longer, varying in the times they came. Sometimes it was crowds of people attempting to kill him, making him check his totem when he woke (black side of the poker chip up, reality, black side down, dream; thankfully, it never landed with the red side facing up). Sometimes it was watching the team being tortured by MacKaye, who couldn’t possibly be alive but was (black side up). The worst ones were when it was only Arthur being taken. Tortured. Killed. 

Black side up, black side up, black side up.

He never spoke of them to his other, not out of embarrassment or fear, but because he knew that Arthur knew anyways. He’d seen Arthur wake up from his own, rolling the dice until it landed on a six. He always heard a sigh, would see the heavy weight drop away from his shoulders. It was during the after that they felt most vulnerable in more ways than one, and would often lie closer to the other, letting their arms overlap or sometimes a head rested on a shoulder. Eames woke once to find Arthur’s fingers tangled in his, smiling a little at the intimacy Arthur was willing to share before drifting back to sleep. 

The beginning of their new lives wasn’t easy. They definitely drove each other up the wall when it came to emotions, and talking it out was like pulling teeth out of a nasty alligator. They argued, most likely raised their voices to the point that they were sure the entire complex could hear them, but never did they point out the other’s weak spots; they had come to an agreement to never deliver a low blow from something personal, even when their emotions ran high.

But at the same time their friendship/rivalry/whatever the hell it was grew stronger. It was signified by Eames seeing Arthur wearing a short sleeve shirt one day (and that sight alone was both unnerving yet very satisfying to the forger), the tattoo on his forearm standing out against his skin. It was a silent acknowledgement, and made Eames want to kiss the man (until he remembered he could do that now, and proceeded right to it).

They learned what topics to tread carefully on with the other, and personal stories happened spontaneously, usually never to be mentioned again. They learned how to move around each other until it felt like instinct, when the quiet was needed or wanted by Arthur, when Eames decided to watch shit television despite Arthur’s eye rolling and silent judgments coming off of him in waves. It never annoyed Eames, just made him grin harder than before.

To Eames, for a pair of people who seemed, at least to outsiders, to want to murder the other at any given moment, they actually did love each other.

He knew this because Arthur said it to him one day as he left on assignment for his new job, leaving Eames in a state of surprise in the apartment. The man felt a rush of affection once the words processed, and knew that even if Arthur didn’t say it often, he would show it in many other ways. Eames returned the words a couple weeks later, a small smile overcoming his face at the wide eyes of his partner before he vanished out the door. 

It wasn’t just the words that proved it. The fact that Arthur somehow didn’t throw Eames’ suits into a pile and burn them was a miracle in itself, and when asked why, was simply told “You’re the only man I know who can wear an outfit that would look completely and utterly ridiculous on anyone else yet look too fucking good on yourself”.

It was in the little things Eames did for Arthur, the small notes Arthur would find in his pockets that he swore wasn’t there a moment ago, the small touches of reassurance and care. Eames was definitely more of one to physically show his affections, but knew when they would be warranted or not. 

It was definitely in the one time they went out for a drink and _somehow_ (see: Eames’ fault) managed to get into an all out brawl in the bar. The cops showed up as one of the drunk men managed to land a punch in Arthur’s stomach, and hauled them all outside. Witnesses came out telling the cops the “two gentlemen were only defending themselves” and “it was all those bastards’ fault anyways they wanted to fight even before the two came in”. Almost reluctantly, the cops released the duo, letting them step away as the three drunks were pushed into the back seat. Arthur was breathing heavily, his face a mess with blood from a punch to the nose and mouth, and he glanced at Eames, who looked the same as well.

“This is probably why we don’t go drinking anymore,” he stated, sending a look to his partner.

“I said two things to the man and he decides that’s enough to warrant a bar fight,” Eames said, watching with gleaming eyes as the cops pulled away, sirens loud in the air. As the men in the back passed by, Eames flipped them off, just for good measure.

“Felt good though.”

“My face doesn’t.”

“Join the club Eames.”

“Sorry about your clothes love, I know ‘blood of drunken asshole’ doesn’t go with it but I think it suits you.”

Arthur huffed, saying, “You ass” before leaning against a low wall, a smile on his face as he continued to laugh anyways. Eames laughed as well, closing the distance between them and putting an arm around Arthur’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his head. It hadn’t been a life threatening situation, but all the same Eames was glad they both made it out in relatively one piece.

They’d slept closer to each other since then, though why they could never explain. It just felt right to do so.

Eames was brought back to the present when he felt Arthur shift, rolling onto his other side so he faced the forger. He was still deeply asleep, hair sticking up around the pillow as he dreamed. The tattoo peeked up at Eames, and he wanted to trace the letters of it like he had done so many times before.

It was an extraordinary thing, to find the person with your handwriting etched onto them, knowing they would be with you for the rest of your life. It held a memory of when they’d met, and even though it wasn’t in the circumstances Eames wanted, he would never change them. He’d met this meticulous, self righteous, wonderful person, and he didn’t want to let go of him ever.

Carefully, so as not to disturb Arthur, Eames took a hold of his hand, and threaded their fingers together. 

“See you in the morning,” Eames mumbled, lying back to rest on the pillow. He missed the slight smile that crossed Arthur’s face as he did so, but their hands stayed together.

As he started to fall back to sleep, he took one last look at the tattoo, just out of habit these days.

_a pleasure to meet you, darling_

Oh, how it had been.


End file.
